Page 51 of The Chapel of Bones

Gerry looked positively excited when Wesley broke the news. ‘We now know Ethelred Bingley owned Sycamore House before Tim Fontescue-Burns bought it. And he has a daughter. We need to speak to her.’

‘Mr Ulswater has her details somewhere and he’ll be in touch as soon as he finds them.’ Wesley paused for a moment, deep in thought. ‘From everything we’ve learned so far from the builder, Pete Wolsey, and June who used to live there, it seemsincreasingly likely that Aleric Donnal was killed just before Fontescue-Burns moved into the premises. Donnal borrowed that book on the sixth of May. It was due back on the twenty-seventh and he wasn’t the type who’d return books late, so he was probably killed between those dates. June Wogan told us she moved in on the first of June but Timothy Fontescue-Burns already had access to the house a week or so before that. If what she said is true, and I’ve no reason to doubt her, either Timothy killed Aleric Donnal as soon as he took over the property, or we can rule him out on the assumption that the body was already behind the wall by then. Fontescue-Burns mentioned some dodgy building work in one of the downstairs rooms to Pete Wolsey when he came to fit the downstairs loo, and I doubt he’d have drawn attention to it if he was the one who put the body there.’

‘I agree.’

‘June mentioned that there were sitting tenants who left before she moved in because Timothy didn’t think they were the right sort.’

Gerry smiled. ‘Blackballed from a hippy commune. You’ll be telling me next he insisted on the blokes wearing ties.’

‘She thought Aphrodite and Apollo were already living there and that Timothy let them stay because he thought they fitted in.

‘In that case, we really need to find them. They could be vital witnesses.’

The phone on Gerry’s desk began to ring. After a short conversation, he put the receiver down and turned to Wesley.

‘That was a woman who lives in Belsham. She says she’s been receiving threats. Her name’s Suzy Porter. And she thinks Sue Potter was murdered by mistake.’

Aleric Donnal’s notebook

7 May 2011

I was contacted by Ethelred Bingley today. He is aware of my interest in the depiction of medieval beasts, both real and legendary, and he says there might be something of interest in the garden of the house he owns. It is called St Julian’s, which is the dedication of the chapel I found references to during my research. I wonder whether Ethelred’s house might be connected in some way? I told him I might call if I had a chance, and he said that his tenants were unlikely to mind the intrusion.

Brother Anselm’s account continues, and I read it with growing apprehension. It is engrossing, and I would be tempted to write a paper on the subject if I were not still committed to my medieval beasts. Perhaps it will be my next project.

It seems Anselm’s focus has shifted from national events and his role as a loyal messenger for the Lancastrian cause to the dilemma of his sinner’s confession. I can almost feel his anxiety as he wrestles with the problem.

I pleaded with my sinner today, he writes.Yet he still refuses to save an innocent man from the gallows. How can I proceed if he will not admit the truth? I tell him that his immortal soul is in peril, for he will have murdered twice – first the unfortunate Isabella, and second, the man who will hang in the place of her true killer.

The bonds of kinship are great. But the bonds of justice are greater. I will pray on the matter.It is all I can do.

31

So far they’d found no plausible motive for the murder of Sue Potter. If it was a case of mistaken identity, that would explain a lot. And it would also mean that Sue Potter had been remarkably unlucky.

Suzy Porter’s home was a hugely extended modern bungalow situated at the far end of the village, on the other side of the church from Sue Potter’s cottage. It dominated the small enclave, with the neighbouring houses seemingly clustered around it.

The front door was opened by a slender woman in her late fifties or early sixties, not far off Sue Potter’s age. Her blonde hair was so immaculately bobbed that she looked as though she’d just emerged from the hairdresser’s. She was wearing a beige top and a pair of well-cut trousers. The thought that she had a small, mean mouth flashed though Wesley’s head. But he dismissed this as uncharitable. It was wrong to make a judgement about the woman before they’d even spoken to her.

‘You’ll be the police, I suppose,’ she said, looking them up and down with disapproval. ‘You took your time.’

‘May we come in?’ said Wesley at his most polite. If he’d left it to Gerry, one of his blunt responses might have brought on a complaint to the chief superintendent.

She instructed them to wipe their feet before leading them into a living room filled with expensive-looking pale-wood furniture, a cream sofa and off-white carpet – the sort of room guaranteed to give anyone visiting with a chocolate-fingeredtoddler a nervous breakdown. A pair of small pedigree dogs, white to match the decor, lay placidly on two of the armchairs, showing no curiosity about the visitors. Wesley couldn’t help thinking how Sherlock would have greeted the newcomers with a wagging tail and a welcoming bark.

Suzy Porter sat down in an armchair that resembled an oversized marshmallow and signalled them with a wave of a beautifully manicured hand to take a seat on the sofa.

‘You’ve been receiving threats, I believe?’ Wesley began.

‘That’s right. Death threats. I want to know what you’re going to do about it.’

‘What form did these threats take? Letters? Phone calls?’

‘Emails. I’ll show you.’

She rose from the armchair’s squishy embrace and walked over to a large Louis XV-style bureau in the corner of the room; an over-fussy piece of furniture that Pam wouldn’t have given house room. She opened the desk section and took out a state-of-the art laptop, which she handed to Wesley.

‘Nasty,’ he said once he’d read the email on the screen.