Free Strange Images of Death by Barbara Cleverly

guard against encouraging … In this much, at least, the Commander is quite right and we should listen to him. Though I maintain that ignorance is always a dangerous state. To know is to be able to arm oneself. If one chooses.’
    ‘But can you tell me, Padraic?’ Joe interrupted in his no-nonsense police voice, picking up the awkwardly expressed plea for calm. ‘As no one will admit to a falling corbel—was there a tool still at the scene? Hammer? Axe? Pick?’
    ‘No. None. But judging by the damage I saw, I’d say the attack could only have been carried out with a stonemason’s hammer or something of the kind.’ Padraic appeared to welcome his return to the limelight and spoke in the voice of a thoughtful witness.
    ‘What had been done with the remains?’
    ‘The sculpture had been smashed into large pieces and then prised away from the rest of the display. Like this …’ He instinctively mimed an action Joe had seen often enough: the swing of a man digging in the trenches, pounding, hacking, levering. ‘Someone had gone to the trouble of hauling the bits off to a corner of the chapel. They’re still sitting there in a pile if you’d like to inspect.’ He shot a questioning glance at Guy de Pacy who nodded soberly and then got to his feet.
    Was some careful servant keeping an eye on proceedings through the red baize door which dampened the sounds between the hall and the rear offices? Instantly, a footman appeared with a tray laden with coffee cups and a second followed with a steaming jug.
    ‘Ah, we have coffee!’ said de Pacy as though surprised.
    ‘Interesting comments, Sandilands! Very interesting! And I intend to hear more. Right now! Why don’t you help yourself to a cup and come over here where we might be more at ease to continue this conversation? Orlando? May we ask you to join us?’ He spoke in English with the merest French lilt.
    The rest of the company helped themselves to coffee and made off to the fringes of the room, moving cushions and rugs here and there to accommodate their gathering groups. Joe would have been intrigued to monitor the placings and affiliations but Guy de Pacy had something more serious in mind for him. Instead of going off to lounge, he set about clearing one end of the table himself before a man had a chance to scurry forward and take the dishes from his hands. Satisfied, he gestured to Joe and Orlando to join him there. In conference, Joe decided.
    He embarked directly on the problem. ‘Firstly: Sandilands, on no account are you to feel under any obligation to involve yourself in this mess. I hope I make that clear?’
    Joe nodded. So far they were of one mind.
    ‘I’m aware of your reputation and, being a racing man, I thought “horses for courses”. This is an event for a sturdier breed than you! I insult neither you nor the good Sergeant Lafitte from the village when I say that this is definitely a task for the gendarmerie.’
    ‘Well, thank God for that,’ was Joe’s silent thought.
    ‘I entertained the theory that it might be young louts from the area sneaking in and having a bit of fun … Their great, great-grandfathers might well have done the same in the unpleasantness of the revolutionary times. I was confident that the Sergeant, once apprised of the situation, would nod wisely and advise me to leave it to him—a name or two came to mind …’
    ‘You took steps to preserve the scene, of course?’ Joe asked.
    ‘Naturally. I went to investigate it myself the moment Padraic returned with his news. I took Jane with me. Miss Makepeace is an authority on medieval art—did you realize?—and a conserver. I thought she might well have insights … be in a position to advise on repair or reconstruction. I—we—judged that we were looking at an unnatural and disturbing occurrence.’ He hesitated for a moment. ‘I think I’m speaking to a soldier?’
    ‘From Mons to Buzancy,’ Joe said succinctly. ‘And the four years of hell in