Page 36 of Marriage and Murder
Penelope stepped forward and looked into the urn, then reached inside and pulled out a fine lawn square. She held it up and examined it, then turned to Barnaby and Stokes and pointed to an embroidered monogram in one corner. “VH,” Penelope confirmed. “I think we can accept that this is, indeed, one of Viola’s handkerchiefs.”
Footsteps approaching on the gravel path had them turning to see a gentleman walking toward them. Judging by his clerical collar, the man had to be Reverend Foswell.
As he neared, he smiled genially. “Good day to you all. I’m Reverend Foswell, minister of this church.”
Stokes responded with the usual introductions, and Foswell nodded benignly.
He half bowed to Barnaby and Penelope. “Mr. and Mrs. Adair.” Foswell’s glance included Stokes when he asked, “Have you made any progress, Inspector?”
With the handkerchief still dangling from her fingertips, Penelope responded, “Progress, yes. Billy here has just told us that Viola Huntingdon visited the church a little after noon on the day she was murdered.”
Foswell nodded. “Indeed, she did. I saw her praying in the church but didn’t intrude. I was in the vestry when she left.” He waved toward the church. “The window looks out this way, and I saw her wander around, then come to this grave. She crouched, which put her out of my sight, and I thought she must have been studying the inscription, which as you can see is quite worn awayto the extent that we can’t tell who is buried there. But after a moment, Viola rose and left, and I confess I didn’t think any more about it.” He looked from Stokes to Barnaby and Penelope. “I really didn’t think the matter relevant to her death. If I had, I would have come to you earlier and reported it.” He looked inquiringly at Stokes. “Is her visit here important?”
Penelope nodded at Billy. “Your sighting of Miss Huntingdon and the confirmation that she was here is certainly of importance to Billy and to our understanding of the case.”
Barnaby looked at Billy. “So where were you on Thursday afternoon?”
Billy colored and looked sheepish, but this time, replied truthfully, “In the woods, like I said, but I was hiding the jewelry in a hollow tree only I know about, not with me mates gathering conkers.”
Stokes sighed and turned to Foswell. “We intended to call on you earlier in case you had any insights into Miss Huntingdon’s state of mind. Perhaps we could go into the church and speak of that now. Meanwhile”—Stokes returned his gaze to Billy—“you’ve had a lucky escape. You’re correct in thinking that, as the jewelry was left in a public place, you committed no crime in taking it. However, I think you’ll discover that, in this case, the village community will be rather less forgiving than the law. I advise you to go home and, henceforth, keep your nose clean and do what you can to help your mother and make her proud of you. You’ll get much farther in life that way, rather than trying to find shortcuts that involve no hard work. Everything in life worth having is something that has to be worked for. That’s just the way life is. Remember that, and you’ll get along much better.”
“Hear, hear,” Reverend Foswell said. “I couldn’t agree more.”
Stokes tipped his head, indicating the path around the church, and said to Billy, “Off you go. And remember what I said.”
Wide-eyed and relieved, Billy ducked his head to them all, then took off, striding rapidly back around the church.
Stokes returned his attention to Foswell. “Now, Reverend Foswell, if you have a few minutes to spare…”
“Yes, indeed.” Foswell turned toward the church. “Come inside, and we can talk.”
As he and Stokes led the way along the path, Foswell somewhat diffidently said, “Might I ask, Inspector, what Billy has been up to? Whatever it is, it’s bound to come out, and people will gossip, I’m afraid, and he’s not always viewed in the best of lights as it is. If I know what the facts are, I might be able to guide reactions into a more appropriate vein.”
Stokes dipped his head in agreement and proceeded to outline what they now believed had occurred with Viola’s jewelry.
They entered the empty church and settled in the two rearmost pews.
Foswell was frowning. “In some ways, that does sound like Viola—like something she might do if she wanted to hide something. But why is a mystery.” He looked at Barnaby and Penelope, seated in the pew in front and swiveled to face Foswell and Stokes. “Why,” Foswell asked, patently puzzled, “would she hide her jewelry?”
“More specifically,” Penelope said, “why did she hide those particular pieces just hours before she was killed?”
None of them had any insights to offer. They spoke with Foswell for several minutes, going over all he knew of Viola and her time in the village, but there was nothing in what he had to impart that shed light on the issues before them.
Eventually, Foswell concluded, “While I’m aware of the strained relations between the Penroses and Viola and of the general view of Viola, which wasn’t entirely flattering and, I’m saddened to say, in some respects, was well-deserved, I knowof no reason that might have prompted anyone in the village to murder her.”
Stokes thanked the minister for his time and his assistance with Billy, then Barnaby, Penelope, and Stokes left the church and, joined by Morgan, who had remained outside, returned to where Phelps waited with the carriage just beyond the lychgate.
Barnaby handed Penelope up and followed, and the three of them joined Swithin, who had remained in the carriage throughout.
Naturally, he had questions, and as reward for his assistance, Stokes filled him in on all that had transpired, explaining at the last that, as Viola had left her jewelry for anyone to find, no actionable crime had been committed by Billy in taking the items and attempting to sell them.
“Oh.” Swithin looked puzzled. “How sad. And odd.” He looked at Barnaby and Penelope. “She was very fond of both those pieces, you know. And even after I told her the stones were fake, while I can understand her throwing away the necklace, I’m rather surprised she would have discarded her mother’s bracelet.”
Barnaby glanced at Penelope and saw that the point was a puzzle to her, too.
After exchanging a look with Stokes, Barnaby turned the conversation to more general countryside observations until they reached the King John Inn.
There, after sincerely thanking Swithin for his help one last time, Barnaby, Penelope, Stokes, and Morgan alighted from the carriage, allowing Phelps and Connor to return Swithin to his home in Salisbury.
