Cosy Crime Short Stories by Martin Edwards

Author:Martin Edwards
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Agatha Christie, Ngaio Marsh, British Library, crime and mystery, armchair crime, murder fiction, detective fiction, anthologies, new voices
Publisher: Flame Tree Publishing
Published: 2021-03-08T19:43:10+00:00

Sir Robert’s Gargoyle

Philip Brian Hall

Whenever it rained heavily, The Very Reverend Geoffrey Syme went out to the cathedral close and got wet. Neighbours scurrying to shelter would see him staring anxiously up at the acres of lead-sheathed roof, fretting about the gargoyles.

Centuries of English weather had dangerously weakened the stone figures and Geoffrey could no longer put off the issue of their replacement. As dean, he chaired the Restoration Committee’s monthly meetings in the chapter house. Sitting quietly beneath the lofty, vaulted ceiling, he’d often mused on those who’d occupied the wooden benches before him. Upon what important debates had light from these colourful stained-glass windows fallen? But now it was his turn.

“Back in the thirteenth century,” he said, introducing the vexed topic at the end of the agenda, “the gargoyles were carved as representations of wealthy local gentry and merchants who’d contributed to the cathedral’s building costs. It was intended as a mark of popular gratitude for their munificence.”

“But sandstone being what it is,” Derek Mason, the architect, interjected, “erosion is now so severe we can’t make out enough of a likeness to copy.”

“Of course,” Geoffrey continued optimistically, “we ourselves could imitate the founders by offering portrait sculptures to modern benefactors who might help defray this considerable expense.”

“Intolerable betrayal!” The angry voice of Lady Agatha, Dowager Countess of Eggesford, cut through the quiet of the assembly. Whenever anyone overlooked the role of the Fortescues in local history, the countess could be relied upon to remind them of it. Her hearers cringed as the all-too-familiar commanding tones rang out.

“My ancestor, Sir Robert Fortescue, personally bore the whole cost of the crossing vault and the lower tower. In consequence, his gargoyle occupies a place of honour over the south transept. I must insist it is replaced with a similar likeness.”

“But we don’t know what he looked like,” Mason repeated stolidly.

“Since I’m his direct descendant, we may assume a strong family resemblance,” Lady Agatha retorted.

Argument raged back and forth, occasional explosions of temper echoing from the walls. If the original architects had intended the octagonal chapter house arrangement to promote concord, on this occasion it lacked the desired effect.

Eventually, sensing likely rebellion among the other members, Geoffrey called a halt. Sufficient unto the day was the evil thereof. Everyone could agree to the decision being postponed until the following month.

For a whole week thereafter, daily notes hand-written on embossed, cream paper were delivered to the deanery by the countess’ chauffeur. Each reminded Geoffrey of the role a Fortescue had played in the upkeep of the cathedral at various periods of its long history.

The first letter reminded him, as though the fact were not already burned into his memory, that Sir Robert Fortescue, the co-founder, died while on crusade and had no known tomb or memorial other than his gargoyle.

The third note drew attention to the execution of the then Baron Eggesford in 1648, his punishment for hiding the cathedral’s plate from marauding Roundheads. Geoffrey knew this story well. According to Her Ladyship,

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