Page 33 of Deadly Murder (Angus Brodie and Mikaela Forsythe Murder Mystery #14)

“Look for the Reverend Chastain’s name,” I suggested. “That should be easier.”

“I found it,” she eventually announced.

I translated the remainder of the entry. “The Reverend Joseph Chastain, Vicar, arrived 8 September 1861.”

“Continue searching for when he might have been sent to a new parish,” I told her as I opened my notebook and entered the date she’d found.

“The usual term is three years before being assigned elsewhere. That might be sometime in 1864, or possibly later.”

She continued to scan the entries on the following pages.

“I didn’t find anything,” she eventually announced.

Was it possible Reverend Chastain had remained longer?

“He might have stayed on,” I suggested. “It’s possible there was no one to assume the position at that time.” I stood with her then, reading through the entries as well.

“There.” I pointed to an entry dated 16 May 1866.

It appeared that Reverend Chastain had remained at St. Pancras an additional two years past his normal term.

As with the other entries made by hand, the ink had faded as the paper in the archives aged. It was difficult to read the note that had been added. Lily moved the lamp closer.

“What else does it say?” Lily asked.

“ Faithful servant in the Lord’s service ,” I translated. “ Departed this date for St. Mary’s Church, Hendon. ”

Lily had done well. At least now we knew when Reverend Chastain had left, but what of his daughter who had suffered so horribly?

“Did you find any reference for Mary Chastain?”

Lily shook her head. “The vicar’s name was the only one.”

A sound beyond the library caught both of our attention. I glanced at the clock on the wall of the library.

It had grown quite late. The clerk had been gone for quite some time and should have returned.

“We have what we came for, we should leave. If we see the clerk on our way, we will thank him.” I pulled on my coat and tucked my notebook into my bag as Lily did the same.

“It’s quite late,” she whispered as we retraced out steps in the darkened hallway. “And there’s no one about.”

There was another sound now, very nearby. I thought of Brodie’s warning.

Was someone there, just behind us, moving swiftly now in our direction? I quickened our steps, and Lily as well.

We reached the end of the hallway and a hand reached out.

“Lady Forsythe.”

It was James, the clerk of the church.

“I was just on my way to see if you needed any assistance. It’s quite late and I will be leaving soon.”

“I thought that you might have returned earlier,” I suggested with a glance back down the hallway. “There was someone very near the library.”

He shook his head. “I have only just returned after assisting one of our parishioners.”

“I must be mistaken,” I said.

Except that I was certain I was not. There had definitely been someone in the hallway.

“At this time of the day and the middle of the week, I’m the only one here,” he explained. “Except for the groundskeeper.”

Lily started to protest. She had heard that sound as well.

While I would have liked very much to know who was there, I wasn’t willing to risk any harm to Lily. And it did seem that whoever had been there was not there now. I only hoped that Mr. Jarvis was still waiting with the coach.

I thanked James once more and we quickly left.

“There was someone there,” Lily said quite vehemently. “We should find them.”

“We need to leave!” I replied.

“But what if it was the man you saw before?”

Precisely, I thought.

Mr. Jarvis was there, the coach silhouetted against a dark grey sky as snow began to fall once more. And somewhere on the church grounds I heard the sound of a hound baying quite furiously.

Lily gave a sharp whistle, then another.

Rupert eventually appeared, though reluctantly as he stopped more than once at full attention in the direction he had come.

Lily whistled once more, and he returned to the coach.

We quickly climbed inside, and I asked Jarvis to take us to Sussex Square.

“Sussex Square?” Lily said. “We should return to the office so that we can let Brodie know what we learned.”

“It would be best if you return to Sussex Square,” I replied. Where she would be safe. Munro would be there.

She was not pleased.

“Why are ye sending me back?” she demanded. “Haven’t I shown ye that I can be helpful. I found the information about Reverend Chastain being sent to St. Mary’s in Hendon.”

The Scots accent slipped through again as I had noticed before when she was in a temper.

“Mr. Brodie said…”

“He would not want you to pursue this now,” I interjected. “We don’t yet know what this is all about.”

I thought of those cryptic notes that had been left on the bodies and the additional ones sent to His Highness.

“Three young men have been murdered. There may very well will be another attempt.”

“I don’t need yer protection,” she argued as we continued toward Sussex Square. “I’m not a child. I can take care of myself. Ye are not my mother!”

She stopped herself and stared at me across the darkened interior of the coach, her expression quite different now.

“I didn’t mean that…I apologize.”

“I have never thought of you as a child,” I replied. “But that does not mean that I do not care what happens to you.”

I was very aware that I could not prevent her choosing her own path. “I ask that you trust me in this.”

She eventually nodded, however she was silent for the rest of the trip to Sussex Square and then once again after we arrived.

Brodie came out of the office as Mr. Jarvis delivered the hound and I safely back to The Strand.

He took one look at me and frowned as he came down the stairs, then paid Mr. Jarvis.

“Aye, dinna stand there in the cold.” He took my hand.