The Haunted Lady (11 page)

‘Perhaps Michael’s inside, or someone’s cleaning or doing flower arranging?’

‘No, not at this time of day. Michael told us that the cleaner comes in the morning, and there’s a notice in the porch that advertises flower arranging classes, which are on Friday.’

‘We’d better check it out, I suppose, to be on the safe side.’ I reversed into a side road and drove back to the church, pulling to a halt on the verge. ‘That’s Michael’s car, isn’t it?’

‘Yes,’ Eve said, ‘and if he’s here, perhaps Chloe’s with him. We could tell her what we’ve discovered about her father. I know it isn’t much, but it might give her and Michael a bit of hope.’

I wasn’t sure that this was a good idea, but, by the time I’d made my mind up, Eve was out of the car and halfway across the churchyard. I locked the door and followed her. I’d just reached the lych-gate when Eve entered the building. By the time I got to the porch she came hurtling back out of the door. I stared in horror at the blood on her hands.

‘Michael’s been hurt. Badly hurt.’

The vicar was lying to the rear of the last pew in the nave close to the font, no more than a few feet away from the door. I knelt down beside him. ‘Eve, there’s a phone box at the junction of Church Lane and the main road. Get an ambulance and police here while I attend to Michael.’

I looked up and saw the concern etched on her face. ‘Don’t worry, Eve, unless he’s got other injuries I can’t see, I don’t think he’s going to die.’

I pulled a clean handkerchief from my pocket. After mopping blood from around the wound on his head I knew I’d been right. The injury was nowhere near as bad as Eve had feared. It certainly wouldn’t be fatal, I thought as I applied pressure to stem the flow. We were in luck in another sense too, because there was a telephone box nearby that had escaped the attention of vandals. When Eve returned, breathless from her dash to summon help, I was able to tell her, ‘It’s nothing more than a flesh wound. He’s got a bump on the side of his head the size of an egg. Only a pullet egg,’ I added, smiling encouragingly at her.

Michael was already conscious by the time I heard the distant sound of the ambulance approaching, and I was relieved to hear that he answered my tentatively posed questions rationally, even though his words were less than illuminating.

‘I found the door open.’ His voice was clear, though not as strong as usual. ‘I thought someone must have broken into the church. I suppose coming inside was foolish, but I didn’t stop to think. After that,’ he shrugged, then winced, ‘I felt a sharp pain on my head; that’s all I remember.’

‘Did you see the person who attacked you?’

Michael began to shake his head, then thought better of it. ‘No, I guess they must have come from behind me.’

At that point the ambulance crew arrived and there was no chance for further questions. They had loaded the vicar into the ambulance when DS Holmes arrived. He looked harassed, which was getting to be his habitual expression. I brought him up to date on events, but pointed out that unless their fingerprints officer was lucky, there seemed little chance of identifying the vicar’s assailant.

‘We could let Michael’s mother and his fiancée know what has happened,’ Eve suggested.

Holmes looked relieved and thanked us. ‘To be honest, I’m absolutely at my wits’ end for lack of help. Even Johnny is on leave. I don’t suppose I can blame him. It’s his wedding anniversary. As for the uniform branch, there’s a race meeting at York, so I can’t pull anyone in to assist. I need to be in three different places this morning, but everything else will have to wait. I must stay here to ensure nothing is disturbed until after the fingerprints officer has been.’

‘Would it help if one of us were to stay here and stop anyone barging in on your crime scene? For all we know the cleaning lady might be due to arrive. Either that or a party of brass-rubbing fanatics.’

Holmes thanked us profusely. After he left, having cautioned me not to touch anything, I handed the car keys to Eve. ‘I’ll let you have the unpleasant task of giving Marjorie and Chloe the bad news while I wait here.’

‘Are you sure you’ll be OK?’

‘Don’t worry, Eve, I doubt the attacker would have the nerve to come back until they were certain the coast is clear.’

Churches are cold, uninviting and vaguely eerie places when they are unoccupied. I wandered around the interior of the building, as much from a desire to keep warm as from any real interest, although at some point I did mull over the possible reason for an intruder wanting to be inside here. It had to be something meaningful, not simply a petty theft. Keeping my hands firmly in my pockets, I had examined the main door, which had been forced open with some kind of jemmy. This was obviously the point of entry. The porch provided good cover and ensured the intrusion was not overlooked, nor was there much chance of a passer-by hearing the sound of the break-in. All that lay outside the door was a small path leading to the churchyard entrance and a row of ancient graves.
Their occupants would hardly make for good witnesses
, I thought.

The fact that the intruder had come so well prepared and had obviously reconnoitred the building beforehand confirmed my earlier thought that this was no small-time burglar. This had been someone with a definite objective in mind, but what could that be? What there was of value inside the church appeared to be untouched. I remembered my previous facetious comment. The ornamentation on the altar was still there, even the collection plate was intact, and contained a couple of notes and a few coins. Obviously a petty thief would have pocketed them at first glance.

Boredom was taking over rapidly, and I continued to roam around the building. I’d inspected the bell chamber, which was less than enthralling, and, on returning to the nave, wandered down, glancing at each row of empty pews as I passed. My meandering had brought me level with the wings of the cruciform, with the entrance to the Lady chapel to my left. I was looking directly ahead, towards the chancel and the high altar, when a shape that had appeared in my peripheral vision caused me to turn my head.

The woman standing inside the Lady chapel was dressed from head to toe in grey. Not only that, but her face and hair were grey too. I stared, transfixed, as she stared in my direction. She ignored me completely, looking at a spot just above my head, as if she was gazing at some distant object. I licked my lips and tried to speak, to attract her attention, but no words came. Then, as suddenly as she had appeared, the figure faded and then vanished. I blinked, astonished and, I will admit, more than a little afraid.

There isn’t much that terrifies me, having witnessed the horrors of war at close quarters, sometimes far too close for comfort. There is very little that man is capable of that scares me. However, when I am faced with an event for which I can find no rational explanation, I admit to being afraid. I had to confess that what I had just witnessed was impossible by all logical standards. How else can you describe the vision of a woman who appears out of nowhere in an otherwise empty building, and then, a few seconds later vanishes again without trace.

It was over half an hour later when Eve returned. I was standing in the porch, as if standing guard over the entrance as I awaited the officer’s arrival. In truth it was because I no longer wanted to be inside the building. Even the entrance was too close for comfort.

One glance at my face told Eve that something was wrong. With devastating accuracy she asked, ‘What’s wrong, Adam? You’re as white as a sheet. You look as if you’ve seen a ghost.’

I swallowed and replied, ‘That’s exactly what happened. She appeared out of nowhere. Eve, I’ve seen the Grey Lady.’

Eve insisted on being shown where the vision had occurred. Although I was reluctant, I followed her back into the church. ‘Is this about where you saw her?’ Eve stood in the Lady chapel.

‘Yes, although she was much taller than that. I hadn’t realised it before, but she was either bigger than a basketball player or ...’ I paused, because what I’d been about to say would sound ridiculous.

‘Or what?’ Eve asked.

‘Or she was floating off the ground.’

I’d been right. It did sound absurd, but luckily Eve didn’t scoff at my seemingly senseless remark. ‘If she had the power to materialise and then vanish as you described then floating off the ground would be no problem,’ she said.

Together we examined the Lady chapel. There was absolutely no logical explanation for what I’d seen, or believed I’d seen.

It came as a great relief when the fingerprints officer arrived, closely followed by one of the churchwardens. I was able to tell them about the point of entry. The churchwarden grimaced when he saw the damage to the door. ‘More expense,’ he muttered.

‘Can we leave you to it?’ I asked. ‘It’s just that I’d rather be out of this building.’

The comment meant nothing to the police officer, but the churchwarden looked at me keenly. ‘Why is that?’ he asked.

‘I ... er ... I thought I saw something,’ I said weakly. ‘In the Lady chapel.’

‘Don’t tell me, let me guess. Was it a woman, dressed from head to toe in grey, who appeared to be floating in mid-air and then vanished?’

I nodded agreement. His description was spot on.

‘And have you found an explanation for what you saw?’

‘No, none whatsoever.’

‘That’s because there isn’t one. Not that I know of. I’ve seen her several times, and even spoken to her on a couple of occasions, without a response. I’ve had to put up with a fair amount of teasing about it, but she seems harmless.’

I was relieved to hear at first-hand an account that matched mine. Somehow, this made me feel easier, but I was glad when he thanked us, both for coming to the vicar’s assistance and for taking care of the building. At last we were able to leave.

Eve had parked further along to allow for the expected arrivals and as we were getting into the car I noticed something on the ground. I picked it up and, without thinking, stuffed it into my pocket. Later, when we got back to Eden House, I examined the find, and was puzzled by it.

‘What have you got there?’ Eve asked.

‘It’s a locket. It was lying on the ground near where we were parked.’

Eve peered at it over my shoulder. The chain had snapped, which was presumably why the locket had been lost.

‘Turn it over,’ Eve suggested, ‘there’s often an inscription on the back.’

She was right, there was, but it was of little use to us in identifying the owner.

Although I am by no means an expert, I guessed that it was not a particularly valuable item. It was not hallmarked, so it couldn’t have been silver, possibly silver plate.

‘Open it up,’ Eve encouraged me, ‘it might tell us who the owner is.’

I did so. Inside were two tiny photos, both in black and white. The first was a girl of about six or seven years of age, the second a toddler, but whether the younger child was a boy or girl it was impossible to say. The girl had a mass of dark hair and heavy, dark eyebrows. Once again I had this slight feeling of familiarity, as with the stranger, but was unable to place it. It was Eve who recognised the older of the children.

‘That’s the same little girl whose photo was in the locket Chloe showed us.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Absolutely, there’s no doubt it’s the same child.’

‘That explains why I thought she looked familiar.’

After my encounter with the apparition, I was still in a state of mild shock the following afternoon when Johnny arrived to take our statements. ‘DS Holmes told me you witnessed an assault on the vicar of St. Mary’s, and we need to get the details down.’

‘Actually, that’s wrong, Johnny.’ I stood aside to let him enter. ‘We didn’t witness the assault, only the aftermath.’

‘Have you heard how Rev. Phillips is?’ Eve asked as she came into the hallway.

‘He’s OK, apparently. I think he was very lucky. By what Holmes told me it could well have been the sound of your car pulling up that disturbed his assailant; stopped him finishing the job.’

‘Hang on, I resent that.’ I saw Johnny grin. ‘My car doesn’t make
that
much noise. It certainly wouldn’t have been heard inside the church. It seems far more likely that the intruder simply wanted to make his escape and Michael was unfortunate enough to get in the way.’

‘Very possible,’ Johnny agreed. ‘If you didn’t see anything, these statements won’t take long. All you need to tell me is what you found inside the church.’

We did so, and in the course of my statement I saw Eve watching me closely. I could guess what she was thinking, but I omitted to mention spectral figures floating in mid-air. I had this mental vision of the resultant chaos if the attacker was brought to court and that had been read out.

As Johnny was leaving, he mentioned casually, ‘It’s Mark Bennett’s funeral the day after tomorrow. The vicar has said he’ll be fit enough to conduct the service. I wondered if you might be going to attend.

‘Have you any particular reason for telling us?’ Eve asked.

Johnny shrugged. ‘I was talking to Holmes about it. He mentioned that an extra pair of eyes and ears might be useful. He’s still very inexperienced. I reckon he needs all the help he can get. Anyway, we’re working on the theory that the killer was someone known to both Bennett and Casper, and was possibly close to them. OK, we’ve discounted David Kershaw, but given their lifestyle, that still leaves plenty of options, and we thought it might be useful if you were on hand to spot someone behaving suspiciously or saying something that might be helpful.’

‘We’ll think about it,’ Eve replied without consulting me.

‘Before you go, Johnny, I have a question for you. It has nothing to do with the murders. I was wondering what you can remember about David Kershaw’s brother and sister-in-law.’

‘Not much,’ Johnny replied. ‘Why do you want to know?’

‘Chloe asked us to see what we could find out, especially about her mother. There doesn’t seem to be much information, and she’d like to know something about her before the wedding. You do know she’s engaged to Michael Phillips, don’t you?’

‘Yes, but I don’t think I can be of much help. This wasn’t my patch back then. By the time I came here, Mrs Kershaw had died. Kershaw was a wreck. I had to take him home from the pub a few times when he was legless. From what I could gather, even though he was often too far gone to make any sense, he didn’t seem to care what happened to him. The only thing that kept him going as long as he did was the little girl. Having said that, there was no way he could have carried on like that much longer. It was pure luck that his brother and sister-in-law came home when they did, otherwise I think Chloe would have been taken into care. Her father was a ticking time bomb. It was only a question of which gave out first, his heart or his liver.’