not mean he granted his blanket approval to all members of the clergy, and this one had definitely got up his nose almost as much as he seemed to have got up Beresfordâs.
It irritated him that the vicar spoke with such oily humility â âit serves our humble purposesâ â while at the same time acting as if he were the most important person in the room, if not in the county. It bothered him that the man should have been watching the two old ladies work, yet made no effort himself. And it annoyed him both that the vicar should greedily crunch his endless supply of peppermints instead of sucking them, and that he hadnât thought to offer one to either his cleaning ladies or his visitors.
Beresford returned.
âThis place isnât perfect, but it will have to do,â Beresford told Crane.
âIt will have to do what?â the vicar asked.
âIt will have to do as our incident centre,â Beresford said.
The vicar shook his head. âOh, dear me, no, Iâm afraid it wonât âdoâ at all. This building does not have the same sanctity as the church, of course, but it is a vital part of village life, and Iâm afraid I could not possibly allowââ
Beresford sighed heavily. âYou do know a manâs been murdered, donât you?â he asked.
âIndeed I do, but since that man was not one of my parishioners, I feel under no obligation toââ
âIf you make me go to all the trouble of sending to Whitebridge for a court order which will compel you to let me use this little shack of yours, I shall be most pissed off,â Beresford interrupted him.
He was handling it all wrong, Crane thought, but that came as no surprise, because he had been handling
most
things all wrong for the past month or so.
âCould I have a quiet word, sir?â he asked.
âA quiet word?â Beresford repeated.
âWonât take a minute,â Crane promised.
They walked to the other corner of the room, and Beresford said, âWhatâs this all about?â
âWe could get a court order, but that would take time, and â according to the boss â time is just what we donât have,â Crane said. âBesides, the rest of the team is already on its way from Whitebridge, and itâll need a base ready for it when it gets here.â
âDo you think I donât know that?â Beresford demanded. âI donât want to go through all the rigmarole of getting an order, but if this pompous little shit wonât cooperate, what choice do we have?â
âI think I can persuade him to agree,â Crane said.
âNow this Iâve
got
to see,â Beresford told him.
âI think I can persuade him
if youâre not here
,â Crane said firmly.
âYouâve no chance,â Beresford scoffed.
âJust give me ten minutes alone with him,â Crane suggested.
Beresford thought about it. âAll right, Iâll do it, Jack,â he agreed, âbut only to show you that while youâre a smart lad, youâre nowhere near as smart as you think you are.â
âI appreciate it, sir,â Crane said.
Beresford left the church hall, and Crane sauntered over to the vicar.
âI donât much like your superiorâs attitude,â the vicar said.
âI donât much like it myself,â Crane said.
But even on his worst day, heâs probably better than you on your best, he added mentally.
âAnd you do see my point, do you not?â the vicar asked. âI simply cannot allow the church hall to be used for the purpose your colleague suggested. So much of village life is focussed on this place â the Sunday School, the Motherâs Union, the Christian Fellowship . . .â
âAnd no doubt you foster local talent by allowing the village rock bands to practise in here,â Crane suggested.
The vicar sniffed.
âCertainly not,â he