Screaming Yellow (37 page)

“Why tell me of the murder, though? Why not just leave the body to be discovered later?”

Meinwen shook her head. “All in good time. The effect of the call was that the murder was discovered at night rather than in the morning. This could mean one of two things. Either the killer wanted the body found before it began to deteriorate, which indicates they cared for him, or else the killer wanted to be present when the body was found.”

“But only Amanda, Nicole, Peter and I were present,” said Simon, “unless someone else was watching that we didn’t know about. Jennifer stayed in the hall.”

“Someone watching?” Meinwen smiled. “Hold that thought.”

“Okay.” Simon grinned and rubbed his hands together. “Go on.”

“My next clue was the chair. Do you remember Amanda said it had been moved?”

“That was the day I was giving Mass. You told me afterward, though. It could easily have been moved by the police when they investigated the scene.”

“I thought so too. So I checked with Inspector White, or rather his sergeant, since it seems that the police have an internal server for all this information and the inspector doesn’t like computers. The police make it a policy not to disturb anything at a crime scene, and he sent me a picture of the room taken that night. The chair is exactly where we found it.”

“Perhaps Robert moved it then, or one of the people he argued with. Catherine, say, or the killer.”

“Amanda didn’t think so. She was surprised it was out of place. There were deep tread patterns in the carpet that suggested it was always on the same spot. She wouldn’t have noticed the discrepancy otherwise. That’s one of the reasons I eliminated her. She wouldn’t have brought our attention to a detail like that if she was the killer. Combined with the fact she had no reason to make the telephone call and she’s no longer a suspect.”

“What if she wanted the body found because she cared for him?”

Meinwen shook her head. “Her loyalties are firmly with Jean. That much is clear from watching her. She may have liked Robert or even loved him, but she didn’t kill him.”

Simon sat back again, rubbing his eyes. “What was the significance of the chair, then?”

“In its new position it hid Robert’s laptop from the doorway. The killer had to be there to switch off the dictation program, leaving us to think the murder was committed later than it was. Whoever made the phone call wanted to be at the scene when the body was found so they could shut down the software which also means that they were conversant with using a computer.”

“Clever. That eliminates Richard, doesn’t it? It could still be Amanda though. Who doesn’t know how to use a computer in this day and age?”

“No.” Meinwen drained her cup and twisted to put it down on the coffee table. “Amanda would be at the scene whenever the body was found because she’d be the one answering the door.” She laughed. “You’ve fixated on the poor girl, now. Have you got a grudge against her? Trust me, she didn’t do it.”

Simon sighed. “If you insist, but there’s something not quite right about her.”

“This from a man in a dress.” Meinwen grinned.

Simon wagged his finger at her. “That was a cheap shot and an old one. No points.”

She laughed and stretched her legs out. “Fair enough.”

“Is there anything else or is that the extent of your deductions?”

“There’s more.” Meinwen began to massage her calves. “Given that we’ve established Richard wasn’t the killer, why was his cellphone and footprints found outside the window?”

“They were left there to frame him?”

“Exactly. If we believe Richard’s story, he lost his Nokia at the pub. Who had the opportunity to steal it from him? To my knowledge, only you and Peter were at the pub on the night of the murder.”

“There’s still this mysterious watcher you mentioned.”

“Indeed.” Meinwen pointed at him. “That’s right. The watcher saw everything.”

Simon leaned forward again, his voice catching in his throat. “So who is the watcher?”

Chapter 34

Meinwen smiled, though it never reached her eyes. “I am the watcher, though I watch in hindsight through all the clues you left me.”

“The clues I left you?” Simon laughed. “You think I’m the murderer?”

“Of course. Do you deny it?” Meinwen reached into the printer tray and took out a sheaf of papers. She sorted through them and pulled one out.

“You may have forgotten, but I’m a priest.”

“A priest is not immune to committing offences before God.”

Simon leaned back and scratched his ear, his blue eyes twinkling. “And how would a simple heathen know that?”

“I’ve studied you over the past week,” Meinwen said. “You are not who your parishioners think you are. You have secrets, just like the rest of them, but I found them out.”

“I was hiding Richard, big deal.” Simon leaned over to the coffee table where a bowl of salted peanuts lay untouched after the meeting. He sorted through them, looking for unbroken ones. “It may have been foolish but it was hardly a sin.”

“That’s not your only secret, though, is it?” Meinwen stood. “Would you like another coffee?”

Simon looked at the dregs in his cup. “I’d better not. It might keep me awake.”

“I’m surprised you manage to sleep at all,” Meinwen said on her way to the kitchen. “I know I wouldn’t with such a tarnished spirit.”

“The state of my soul is between me and God and none of your concern.”

“True.” Meinwen sat again, fresh coffee instead of carob steaming in her mug. “It’s your mortal deeds that concern me. It was only the discrepancy in time that drew my attention away from you as the killer in the first place.”

“Why would I have killed Robert? He was a good friend and Richard’s stepfather. What reason would I have had to kill him?”

“Because the letter he received from Grace Peters named you as the blackmailer.” Meinwen sipped her coffee. “Oh, I know it was you blackmailing her. Who better to know her darkest secrets than her priest and confessor? You threatened her with exposure to the police and she kept you quiet with a payment of a thousand pounds a month.”

Simon laughed. “You’re talking out of your hat. You have no proof of any of this.”

“Circumstantial, perhaps, but I can prove the withdrawals from Grace Peters’ account match the deposits into yours.”

“Donations to the church. I have a private source of income.”

“Stocks and shares? A legacy?” Meinwen shook her head. “I think not. Only two people visited Grace Peters on a regular basis–you and her daughter.”

Simon’s face creased as he stood. “I don’t need to listen to any more of this rubbish. Needless to say, you are no longer welcome in my home.”

“Nor will you be after tomorrow,” said Meinwen. “What will Jennifer do when the church reclaims its property? Where will she go when she discovers that her dear brother is a murderer?”

“You leave her out of this.” Simon leaned over Meinwen, his face contorted in fury. “It’s bad enough that you bandy about accusations about me without you going after her as well. What harm has she done to you?”

“Nothing.” Meinwen sat back to give herself a little space from the snarling priest. “I quite like her, actually. She even helped me with the case. I just feel sorry for her. She’ll be gutted to find out that you were the murderer.”

“I’m going to sue you for slander. I know a good solicitor.”

“Gillian du Pointe?” Meinwen smiled. “I know her too. Lovely woman. She was very helpful when I made enquiries about the services she offered.”

Simon shook his head. “I have other friends I was at college with. I shall look forward to seeing your business close and you sent packing back to Aberdovey.”

“If so I shall send you a postcard,” said Meinwen. “Of course, I’ll have to address it to Wandsworth Prison.”

Simon dropped back into the armchair. “All right. Let’s pretend what you’re saying is true. How do you explain the phone call? The police have verified that it really happened. I didn’t just phone the home number from my cell.”

“That was easy. Once I’d met Tom in the graveyard and suspected who he really was I asked around. The neighbor of the real Old Tom told me where he was. It was easy for me to get in touch with him. It was Old Tom who phoned you that night, exactly as you asked him to, to tell you that he was on his way to his brother’s.”

Meinwen flipped a lever so that her chair could tilt and leaned backward, a half-smile on her face. “There was all the evidence I needed. Tom hadn’t a clue about the murder, so when you told Jennifer Robert Markhew was dead, there was only one way you could have known. You’d killed him yourself.”

Simon yawned. “I suppose you can pretend that all the other clues point to me as well.”

“Of course.” Meinwen put her coffee cup on the mouse mat. “You certainly have the skill with computers that the murderer needed. I’ve seen your profile on Jennifer’s for one thing and you’ve got the one in the church as well. You’re more than capable of setting up an audio file to play at a predetermined time. You knew Robert’s methods of working and knew enough about his program to extract the file of his argument with Catherine.”

Simon leaned forward, inspecting his nails. “So could half the people in your investigation. Why would it have been me?”

“As I explained to The Larches people, the only purpose of that telephone call was to enable the killer to be on the scene when the body was discovered. Amanda and Peter have alibis, leaving it a choice between you and Nicole. Nicole, although she had the computer skills, had no motive to kill her employer.”

“So it conveniently falls upon me to have done the deed.” Simon yawned again, making a great show of patting his mouth with his hands. “Really, my dear, there’s not a shred of evidence here that would hold up in court.”

“There’s certainly enough to send you to trial, though.” Meinwen sat up again now that he was at a safe enough distance away. “Robert Markhew was dead before you even left the house with your sister after dinner. When he came back into the study with the letter from Grace Peters you were desperate to know what it said. You had already removed the dagger from the glass case while he was talking to Amanda in the hallway and when he refused to read it in front of you, you killed him and took it.”

Simon shook his head. “I must admit I knew pagans had an active imagination but I never expected it to be this fanciful. I had thought you rather a level-headed woman but this is preposterous. How can you possibly believe in all this guff?”

“Because it’s true, Simon.” Meinwen smiled, knowing he was fighting a losing battle. “You turned the heating up to reduce the rate of cooling of the body, unlocked the study window, set the computer to play one of his dictation files–it was a lucky chance that you picked the one with an argument on it, unless he’d labeled it–and bid him a cheerful good night as if he was sitting at his desk as normal. No one was any the wiser.”

“How would I know that no one would go in to see him before I returned? That would bring your theory crashing down.”

“It was a risk you took,” said Meinwen. “You knew Robert didn’t like to be disturbed at night, and the dictation files would discourage anyone from knocking or coming in unannounced. When you returned, you climbed in through the window, turned the heating down and locked the study door, then planted the phone you’d stolen from Richard, left a set of footprints with his shoes and rejoined Jennifer on the drive, .”

“You seem to have made up a lovely theory,” Simon said. “You should become a fiction writer. I know that Jennifer could give you some pointers, perhaps even introduce you to an agent.”

“Perhaps I will write it up.” Meinwen scratched her neck as she thought about the prospect. “If I do, though, I’ll publish it under ‘true crime.’”

“I wish you the best of luck.” Simon stood again. “Of course, if you do it will give me the perfect opportunity to sue you for libel instead of slander. It might even bring people flocking to the parish and I’ll be able to afford a new church roof.”

“That will be someone else’s problem by then.” Meinwen stood as well. “The new parish priest’s.”

Simon smiled. “I wish you well on your journey back to Wales. Give my regards to the mountains. You’ve got until morning to leave.”

“I’ll certainly see them before you, Simon. You won’t be seeing any mountains for a long time where you’re going.” She paused. “I’m only warning you about all this for Jennifer’s sake, you know.”