you, I assumed it was an animal.”
Banks turned to Daniel Charters. “Did you hear anything?”
“He was in his study until I came back screaming about the body,” Rebecca answered. “That’s the other room at the front, the far side. He couldn’t have heard a thing from there.”
“Mr. Charters?”
Daniel Charters nodded. “That’s right. I was working on a sermon. I’m afraid my wife is correct. I didn’t hear anything.”
“Have either of you seen any strangers hanging around the area recently?”
They both shook their heads.
“Has anyone been inside the Inchcliffe Mausoleum lately?”
Charters frowned. “No. As far as I know no-one’s been in there for fifty years. I just gave the key to one of your men.”
“Where do you usually keep it?”
“In the church. On a hook in the vestry.”
“So it’s accessible to anyone?”
“Yes. But I can’t see-”
“Someone’s been down there recently. We found vodka bottles and cigarette ends. Have you any idea who it might be?”
“I can’t…” Then he stopped and turned pale. “Unless…”
“Unless what, Mr. Charters?” Banks drank some more coffee.
“As you probably know,” Charters said, “I’ve been under a bit of a cloud these past two months. Do you know the details?”
Banks shrugged. “Only vaguely.”
“The whole thing is only vague. Anyway, we employed a Croatian refugee here as a sexton. He turned out to be a complete mistake. He drank, he was abusive and he frightened people.”
“In what way?”
“He used to leer at the schoolgirls, make lewd gestures. One girl even saw him urinating on a grave.” Charters shook his head. “That sort of thing. He never actually touched anyone as far as we know, but some of the girls complained to Dr. Green, and she and I had a long talk. The upshot was, I decided to get rid of him. As soon as he’d gone, he went to the church authorities and claimed that I fired him because he refused to have sex with me.”
“And the church authorities believed him?”
“It doesn’t matter what they believed,” said Charters, with a bitter glance at his wife. “Once the accusation is made, the wheels start to grind, inquiries have to be made. And the accused is put immediately on the defensive. You ought to know how it works, Chief Inspector.”
“Like ‘when did you stop beating your wife?’”
“Exactly.”
“And you think he might have been in the mausoleum?”
“He’s the only one I can think of. And he had better access to the key than most. Also, as I remember, vodka was his drink of preference because he believed people couldn’t smell it on his breath.”
“What do you think of all this, Mrs. Charters?”
Rebecca shook her head, looked away and drank more brandy.
“My wife, as you can see,” said Charters, “has been a pillar of strength.”
Banks decided to leave that one well alone. “What’s he called, this man you fired?”
“Ive Jelacic.”
“How do you spell that?”
Charters told him, explaining the diacritical marks. Banks wrote it down.
“What does he look like?”
“He’s tall, about my height, solidly built. He has black hair, which always needed cutting, a dark complexion, a slightly hooked nose.” He shrugged. “I don’t know what else to say.”
“Where is he now?”
“ Leeds.”
“Has he ever threatened or bothered you at all since you fired him?”
“Yes. He’s been back a couple of times.”
“Why?”
“To offer me a deal. He suggested that he would drop the charges if I gave him money.”
“How much?”
Charters snorted. “More than I can afford, I’m afraid.”
“And how would he get the charges dropped?”
“Say he misinterpreted my gesture. Cultural differences. I told him to go away. The man’s a liar and a drunk, Chief Inspector. What difference does it make?”
“It might make a lot of difference,” said Banks slowly, “if he had a reputation for bothering the St. Mary’s girls and he had a grudge against you. Do you know his address?”
Charters went over and opened a sideboard drawer. “I ought to,” he muttered, flipping through a pile of envelopes. “There’s been enough correspondence on the matter. Ah, here it is.”
Banks looked at the address. It was in the Burmantofts area of Leeds, but he didn’t recognize the street. “Mind if I use your phone?” he asked.
“Go ahead,” said Charters. “There’s an extension in my study, if you want some privacy. It’s just across the hall.”
Banks went into the study and sat at the desk. He was impressed how tidy it was-no papers scattered all around, no chewed pencils, no reference books open face down, no errant paperclips or rubber bands, the way his own desk usually looked when he was working on something. Even the ruler was lined up parallel with the edge of the blotter. A neat man, the Reverend Charters. So neat that he had even tidied his desk after his wife came in screaming about a murder in the graveyard?
Banks consulted his notebook and phoned Detective Inspector Ken Blackstone at home. Blackstone, a good friend, worked for West Yorkshire CID out of Millgarth, Leeds. Banks explained what had happened and asked Blackstone if he could arrange to have a couple of officers go around to the address Charters had given him. First, he wanted to know if Jelacic was at home, and secondly, whether he had an alibi for this evening. Blackstone said it would be no problem, and Banks hung up.
When he went back into the living-room he obviously interrupted Daniel and Rebecca Charters in the midst of a hissed argument. Rebecca, he noticed, had refilled her brandy glass.
Banks had nothing more to ask, so he knocked back the rest of his lukewarm coffee and headed out into the graveyard.
IV
As soon as Banks had gone, Daniel Charters looked disgustedly at the empty wine bottle and the remains of the brandy, then at Rebecca. “I asked you why you did that,” he said. “Why on earth did you lie to him?”
“You know why.”
Daniel leaned forward in his chair, hands clasped between his knees. “No, I don’t. You didn’t even give me a chance to answer. You just jumped right in with your stupid lie.”
Rebecca sipped her brandy. “I didn’t notice you rushing to correct me.”
Daniel reddened. “It was too late by then. It would have looked suspicious.”
“Shpicious? Oh, that’s a good one, Daniel. And how do you think it looks already?”
Daniel’s face contorted in pain. “Do you think I did it? Do you really believe I killed that girl out there?” He pointed a long, bony finger towards the graveyard. “Is that what you think you were protecting me from? Giving me an alibi for?”
