down his throat. Wouldn’t do that to a Catholic, anyway. They can get funny about things like that. They seem to have such certainty about their religion.” He sighed wistfully. “No, I just told Roddy I gathered he was in a spot of bother…was there anything I could do to help?”
“And was there?”
“Well, yes. I mean, it wasn’t a…sort of therapeutic or counselling service. It was a purely practical thing he asked me to do for him.”
“What?”
“Give him a lift.”
“Sorry?”
“He wanted to get away. Things had been bad for a while. I think Roddy’d just had enough and he kept saying he wanted to go to France for a few days. And he knew he’d been drinking too much for too long to be safe driving, so would I give him a lift to Newhaven?”
“And did you?”
“Yes.” Even after such a length of time, the Rev Trigwell still sounded relieved. Giving someone a lift was so much easier than giving someone the consolations of religion.
“You took him to the ferry terminal?”
“Yes. He was very pleased, I remember, because he just got there in time to catch one. He hadn’t got any luggage with him, so he bought his ticket and rushed on just before they pulled up the gangplanks.”
“Have the police asked you about this?”
“No.” He was genuinely puzzled by the question. “Why should they?”
“Well, it’s just…Roddy’s dead. The torso that was found in Pelling House has been identified as belonging to his wife. There are a lot of people in Fedborough who’re saying he must’ve killed her.”
“Are they?” His surprise still seemed authentic. “Oh, but I can’t imagine that.”
“Why not?”
“Roddy didn’t seem that kind of person. I mean, as I said, he wasn’t perfect. He certainly drank too much, andhe was rather irresponsible, but I don’t think there was any evil in him.”
“No.” The vicar’s gut instinct was exactly the same as hers and Jude’s. But she needed more than gut instinct. “Did you tell anyone that you’d taken Roddy to Newhaven?”
“No, I didn’t. He’d asked me not to…which I did find potentially a bit awkward. I try to avoid lying as a general rule. But nobody asked me anything about his movements, so it turned out all right. Mind you…” He coloured. “I did have an awkward moment that very afternoon…”
“The afternoon you’d taken him to Newhaven?”
“Yes.”
“This would have been a Friday?” He nodded. “And we’re talking about…what? Late February three years ago?”
“It would have been around then, yes. I suppose I could check, see if I can be more specific about the precise date…” He sounded dubious about the prospects for success in any such search.
“Don’t bother about that. You said you had an awkward moment that Friday afternoon…?”
“Yes. I’d just got back from Newhaven and parked the car when I remembered I was out of eggs, so I hurried down to the grocer’s, because it was just before closing time, and in the shop I met Virginia.”
“Virginia Hargreaves?”
“Yes.”
“And I thought – wouldn’t it be awkward if Virginia asked me if I’d seen Roddy, because then I’d either have to tell a direct lie or go against what he had asked me to do…so it was potentially very awkward. But…” He wiped his brow at the recollection. “She didn’t ask me anything about Roddy…so it was fine.”
“But did you tell anyone else about giving Roddy the lift?”
“No. Thank goodness nobody else asked, so I managed to avoid that particular moral dilemma.” He spoke as if avoiding moral dilemmas was a rarity for him.
Carole’s mind was racing. She had to talk to Jude. She had to tell Jude about the connections that were forming in her mind.
She contrived to leave the vicarage quickly, but without overt rudeness.
Philip Trigwell stood wringing his hands in the doorway as he saw her out. “I’m sorry. I probably haven’t been much use to you. I often wonder if I’m much use to anyone…you know, my parishioners or…” He sighed. “Life’s not easy, is it?”
“No, it’s not,” said Carole Seddon, as she started towards the parked Renault. “But having a strong faith must help, mustn’t it?”
“Yes,” the Rev Trigwell agreed wistfully. “It would, wouldn’t it?”
? The Torso in the Town ?
Twenty-Four
“…which must mean that Roddy Hargreaves couldn’t have killed his wife,” Carole concluded triumphantly. “He was in France at the time. The Rev Trigwell saw him on to the ferry and then met Virginia afterwards.”
Jude was uncharacteristically cautious. “Ye-es. We’d have to check the actual timing of her disappearance.”
“Oh, come on. We know we’re talking about late February three years ago. Friday the twentieth, to be precise, as James told us. Roddy talked about three or four days of his ‘lost weekend’ in France and said that when he got back, presumably round Tuesday the twenty-fourth, Virginia had gone.”
“But if he’d killed her, he would have said that, wouldn’t he?”
“What, so you’re suggesting the trip to France was just to provide an alibi?” Carole demanded scornfully. “That’s why he involved the Rev Trigwell? Roddy caught the next ferry back to England, murdered his wife and pretended he’d been in France all the time? And I suppose he was only pretending to be drunk out of his skull, was he?”
“That’s what a premeditating murderer would do, isn’t it?”
“Yes. But I can’t see Roddy Hargreaves in the role of premeditating murderer. He wasn’t sufficiently organized to do anything like that. He was a complete mess.”
“That’s how he presented himself, yes. But that could have been an elaborate double bluff.”
“For heaven’s sake! Why’re you being so pussyfooted?”
This outburst brought a slow smile across Jude’s rather beautiful face. “Just playing devil’s advocate.”
“Why?”
“Somebody’s got to. Normally I can rely on you to take the job.”
“Oh, Jude…!”
Jude continued to smile in the silence. After some moments of resistance, Carole couldn’t help smiling too. Jude had that effect on people. As they sat there that Monday morning over coffee in the cluttered sitting room of Woodside Cottage, Carole felt great gratitude for the fact that they’d met. Not that she’d ever put the feeling into words. Carole Seddon had a deep distaste for hearts worn on sleeves.
“Don’t worry. If it’s any comfort to you, I think you’re right.”
“Thank God for that.”
“But we do need to find out more about the weekend when Roddy claimed to be away.”
“
“Probably. We still need to know more about it.”
Carole conceded grumpily that this was true. She’d wanted a bigger reaction to what she’d found out from the Rev Trigwell. And though she knew that Jude was only teasing her, Carole Seddon had never enjoyed being teased.
“All right then. Who do we talk to? Who might know about what Roddy was up to?”
“James Lister. We keep coming back to him. Regular drinking companion of Roddy’s.”
“Yes…” A new thought struck Carole. “I wonder when James retired…”
“Mm?”
