Free Souvenirs of Murder by Margaret Duffy

‘Oh . . . nine.’ And then laughed.
    John’s car had gone from outside the church so we went back into the building.
    â€˜Tell me exactly what you did, before and after, when you and Mrs Crosby found the body,’ Patrick said, gazing around as though he was seeing the place for the first time.
    â€˜There was nothing of real interest to the investigation about it,’ I told him. ‘As I’ve previously said she came to the rectory asking for the church to be unlocked as it wasn’t and ought to have been. She wanted to check the flowers. I told her that the sexton should unlock when your father’s away but she retorted that he often oversleeps and—’
    â€˜Do we know if he had overslept?’ Patrick interrupted.
    â€˜No, he hadn’t. He’d unlocked the church, presumably at the usual time, around nine thirty.’
    â€˜What time was Blanche killed?’
    â€˜I don’t know.’
    â€˜Didn’t Carrick mention that?’
    â€˜I don’t think he knew when I last spoke to him. And I haven’t been too interested in this up until now as my husband is in trouble and I didn’t make a point of asking him.’
    He had scooped up the shopping pad and pen after I had given them back to Elspeth having torn off the written-on sheets and now noted this down, glancing up to give me a raised eyebrow look. ‘Always in trouble, is he, Madam?’
    â€˜A complete tosser,’ I answered in a bored voice.
    We both giggled.
    â€˜Ingrid, why am I doing this?’ Patrick said, flopping down in a pew.
    â€˜To try to take your mind off the trouble.’
    He gazed at me and I saw the depthless misery in his eyes.
    â€˜You didn’t kill those people,’ I said quietly. ‘And even if you had because you were off your head with the drugs I would still love you to bits.’
    He gave me a wan smile and then turned his attention to his notes. ‘Right, you and Mrs Crosby came in, unlocking the door with the key that hangs in Dad’s study. Then what?’
    â€˜The flowers hadn’t been touched, still last week’s. She got on her high horse, consulted the flower rota in the porch and said she would phone the woman who should have done them and give her a piece of her mind.’
    â€˜Who was it?’
    â€˜Pauline Harrison. I told her not to as I knew that Pauline’s father had been taken ill with a stroke.’
    â€˜How did you know that?’
    â€˜By a fluke. I’d overheard a conversation in the village stores. I have discovered since, from Elspeth, that Pauline had had to drive up to Cambridge. Her dad died.’
    â€˜I must remember that if we have to talk to her. Then you unlocked the vestry door.’ Patrick got to his feet and went in that direction. ‘Why did you need to go in there?’
    Following him, I said, ‘I’d asked Mrs Crosby to take care of the flowers in the circumstances and she said that as she didn’t live nearby and hadn’t brought her purse with her she would need to take money from the flower fund box – which is kept in the vestry.’
    â€˜Did you believe that? Don’t women usually take their handbags, or purse, with them everywhere?’
    â€˜No, I didn’t believe her. I think she didn’t want to have to pay for the flowers herself.’
    â€˜Mean old bat. Then what?’
    â€˜I didn’t open the door, she did. The key’s kept on a ledge by the organ. I didn’t know where that one was.’
    â€˜I wonder how many other people do.’
    â€˜Loads. James can probably tell you who they are.’
    Not surprisingly, Patrick knew where the vestry key was kept and unlocked the door. The room was some twelve feet square and all seemed as I had seen it last time except for the carpet which had been removed by the forensic team and was presumably still being examined in a lab somewhere. He stood still for a