[Edith Horton 05] - Murder in Retreat by Noreen Wainwright

Author:Noreen Wainwright [Wainwright, Noreen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: whodunit, cozy mystery, women sleuths, english mystery, cosy mystery, british mystery, 1930s mystery, post word war one, post ww1
Amazon: B07H9BDVPB
Barnesnoble: B07H9BDVPB
Goodreads: 42054662
Publisher: Tirgearr Publishing
Published: 2018-09-25T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

Staffordshire

“Would you have a moment, Wilkes?”

They were on their way out of the chapel and Henry had woken in a much better mood. Things had settled down here, it seemed, apart from Canon Richardson and something had shifted in the way he viewed the elderly man. He had spoken to Canon Richardson’s housekeeper yesterday. He’d offered to do it, telling Brother Malcolm that he was worried about him.

“I’d be grateful if you did, Wilkes and no, I don’t think you are over-stepping any mark—far from it.”

The woman sounded timid over the telephone.

“So, who is it you say you are? I thought it was a Brother Malcolm directing the retreat.”

“It is. My name is Henry Wilkes, Reverend Wilkes. I’m vicar and rural dean in North Yorkshire I hope you don’t mind but we are all a bit worried about the canon. He seems to feel that he is in danger and he has button-holed me several times, really quite distressed.”

Henry paused. His hand gripped the telephone cord. He wasn’t sure what answer he wanted—that all of this was a complete aberration—

or not.

“Oh, dear, Reverend Wilkes. I’m sorry and I feared this would happen. We feared it would happen. We have had several episodes like that. Of late though, just recently he seemed calmer. We were worried about him going away but his lordship thought it might actually do him some good and the canon was insistent. We thought the familiarity as he has attended St Chad’s for years…

But…oh dear…”

So he had misjudged the man. Telling himself that there was indeed a lesson to be learned, Henry replaced the receiver, having reassured Mrs Rogers, the housekeeper, and told her that the bishop telephoning Brother Malcolm was the best idea.

Brother Malcolm led the way to his office. Why did Henry feel as though he was being summoned to the headmaster’s study?

Ridiculous. So much for his mood of renewal and optimism this morning.

The symmetrical proportions of this building, the cornices and wood panelling soothed Henry’s soul. Was it wrong to buttress the church and those who worked for it in aesthetically satisfying buildings amidst comfort and security, whilst outside was misery and unemployment, poor housing and conditions? You could never reach a conclusive answer on that. Who would want to rid the world of places of beauty? Especially in cities. The possibility of getting away from the clamour and spending twenty minutes in a cool, lofty art gallery, or a sweet safe place of worship—well it would be a wretched world without it.

A tray of coffee soon came after Brother Malcolm phoned down to the kitchen. He poured the drinks into the china mugs, intently, all his focus on the mundane task and Henry studied him.

His mild, kind face was tight and clenched and the bags under his eyes were something Henry had not noticed before. Goodness knew what kind of strain he was under. It may seem a cushy enough number presiding over a well-practiced and planned retreat but not so when things went wrong.

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