Sidney Chambers and The Problem of Evil (The Grantchester Mysteries) (25 page)

After this last scene with Veronica Manners he took the opportunity to say farewell. ‘Will you be going back to London?’ he asked.

‘I don’t think I can return to our house. It won’t be the same without Robert. Thank you again for the funeral.’

‘I’m happy to have been of service.’

‘And I’m glad that you’re a better priest than you are an actor.’

‘Ah. So are you saying I’m not a very good actor?’

‘No, I’m saying you’re an excellent priest. Just don’t let it go to your head.’

‘I don’t think there’s much chance of that.’

‘There’s no room for complacency, Sidney. Once you’ve got a taste for an audience, you find that you want one all the time. It’s how we actors keep going.’

‘It’s been brave of you to stay.’

‘You know what they say. “The show must go on.’’ Besides, what have I got to go home to now?’

‘Your husband’s dresser told me that he has plans to look after you.’

‘Ray Delfino? I don’t think that’s a possibility.’

‘He was very close to your husband.’

‘Not in any physical way, if that’s what you’re getting at.’

‘No, I didn’t mean that. He’s very concerned about you. Particularly protective, I should say.’

‘Well that’s very kind of him, I’m sure. But I think I can do without a dresser in my own home.’

‘I’m sure you can.’

‘Do let me know if you’re ever in London, Sidney. Come and see me in a show. I think I might be doing a bit of Ibsen.’

‘Won’t that be rather gloomy, Miss Manners?’

‘Exactly. I’ve just had the perfect preparation.’

Later that day, Roger de la Tour popped out of his dressing-room. He was still in his costume. ‘Coming for a drink, Sidney old boy?’ He spoke as if he was still playing the part of Peter Wimsey and the elision between illusion and reality continued some half an hour later in the Eagle when the two men bumped into Geordie Keating.

‘This is too much for my brain to comprehend,’ the Inspector railed. ‘I now have a clergyman who helps me in my inquiries, and an actor who plays an amateur sleuth. That’s two of you doing my job. I want it acknowledged that I am the real detective round here.’

Roger de la Tour consoled him. ‘Don’t worry, Inspector, we are all off duty now.’

Sidney and Geordie looked at each other and replied simultaneously: ‘We are never off duty.’

They settled by the fire with their pints. ‘Poor old Balfour,’ Roger began. ‘People are saying he should have done more. He could have pulled Robert to safety.’

‘I don’t think he saw where he’d got to in the water,’ said Keating.

‘He confesses to having kicked him,’ Sidney answered.

‘That’s not quite the same as bumping him off, though, is it?’

‘I don’t see why he had to do that,’ Roger de la Tour continued. ‘He hardly needed the husband out of the way to carry on with the wife but people are ascribing all sorts of base motives. It’ll be difficult for him to get decent work. Even though he’s got those dark matinée-idol looks and that great sweep of hair, he’ll always be known as the actor who was in an accident with Robert Vaizey. It’ll be the first thing people say about him. “He’s the one that drowned that actor while carrying on with his wife.’’ No one’s going to cast a chap like that any more. And it isn’t even his fault.’

‘Well,’ said Keating. ‘I would have to say that I think he’s responsible for the bit about the wife.’

‘That’s why I’ve always found that it’s best to stay faithful. Once you start messing around everything spirals out of control,’ Roger replied. ‘I don’t suppose you two men have ever been tempted by other women?’

The lull in the filming had given Warwick Lyons plenty of time to work on his assembly but when Sidney called to see him he confessed that he was finding the editing of the drowning scene difficult. It was upsetting to keep seeing a man repeatedly die on camera and he still could not distinguish the moment when the performance became reality.

‘It looks like he’s acting all the time,’ he told Sidney. ‘I wonder when he knew.’

‘Perhaps he never did.’

‘The last time he comes up for air he seems to be saying something different. The word isn’t “help” but I can’t quite see what it is. The shot’s too wide at that point and the camera goes in to refocus just after. It might be “help”, of course, and we can try projecting it but his mouth closes twice so I think the word in question has two syllables.’

‘Do you think his foot could have caught on something?’

‘It doesn’t look like that.’

‘Or that Andy Balfour could have punched him in the stomach on the turn?’

‘Like Houdini drowning, you mean?’

‘I think that’s a myth but you get the idea. I am not saying that the punch would have been on purpose. That too could have been accidental.’

‘Let me play it again. We can check the trim bins as well. It’s all here,’ Warwick Lyons continued. ‘Take hold of the controller. You can stop the film whenever you want. This is neutral. Right to play, left to rewind, you can zip forwards and backwards as well. Think of it as the gearbox to your car.’

‘I hope I’m better at this than I am at driving,’ Sidney answered, and he began to play through the scene. This included Dickens waiting by the weir, the fall of the dummy, a surge of water, Andy Balfour diving in and the two men struggling. Sidney stopped the Steenbeck just after the actors had separated from each other.

‘We can watch frame by frame.’

‘Show me,’ said Sidney.

They advanced through the images. ‘Vaizey falls away to his left. Do you think that’s the current?’

‘It could be.’

‘And then he appears to get sucked down. Do you think the word could be “Heavy”?’

‘But why doesn’t he ask to be rescued?’

‘Perhaps because he doesn’t yet know he’s drowning.’

‘You would expect the coat to flare out as well, wouldn’t you? The tails should be floating on the surface of the water.’

‘I think it was quite tightly belted.’

‘I wonder why that was? Do you think it could have been deliberate? Is there any sign of him trying to get the coat off?’

They played on and saw that one arm had become free of its sleeve. Robert Vaizey was, indeed, trying to remove his outer clothing as he drowned.

‘I think I need to find that coat,’ said Sidney.

It was now late April and the film had over-run by two weeks. If there was to be any further investigation they didn’t have much time. As soon as the crew moved out of the village, scattering themselves across the country to their next jobs, the memory of events would fade and it would be harder to get to the truth. Sidney therefore asked Daisy Playfair if she could do him an urgent but secret favour.

‘What kind are you after?’ she asked, slipping her arm through his companionably. ‘Nothing too kinky, I hope?’ She was wearing a low-cut white blouse and a black and white mini-skirt.

‘No, really, Daisy, this is quite straightforward.’

‘That’s a pity.’

Sidney explained his need for the coat without giving away his suspicions. The fewer people who knew he was conducting his own unofficial inquiry, the better.

‘It’s funny you should ask for that,’ Daisy went on, suddenly serious. ‘I heard one of the wardrobe girls complaining that the coat had gone missing. It was due to be returned to the hire company.’

‘Perhaps it was lost in the aftermath of the tragedy?’

‘Or it could have been ruined and Wardrobe decided to throw it out.’

‘Who would have been the last person to have it?’

‘The dresser, I suppose.’

‘Ray Delfino?’

‘That’s right.’

‘I wonder if his father supplied the coat?’

‘I can find that out for you easily enough. But what do you want to do about it? You’re not going to stir up any trouble, are you? I wouldn’t want anything bad happening to the girls in Wardrobe. They’re decent and they need the work.’

‘I’m sure that’s true.’

‘Although not as nice as me.’ She dazzled Sidney with her smile.

‘No, Daisy, that would be impossible.’

Sidney returned home to find that Dickens was still poorly and Mandy Cartwright was with him. The Labrador’s chill had developed into a kidney infection and she believed, sorrowfully, that he did not have long to live.

‘Do you think his time in the water during filming is to blame?’ Sidney asked.

‘It did not help. But you know he was getting older and he was a little frail. I shouldn’t have asked you to let him be involved.’

‘I’d like to say that I enjoyed it all but that would be a lie. And Dickens hated it, I know.’

‘It’s been a tragic few days. Poor Dickens. And I’m sorry for Robert Vaizey. It’s hard to believe it was an accident, isn’t it?’

‘Why do you say that, Mandy?’

‘Because film people are generally so organised. They plan for every eventuality. You would have thought it more likely that someone had meant it to happen.’

‘And who would that someone be, do you think?’

‘I know people think it was Andy Balfour. He had a motive, the perfect opportunity and an excuse. He could have rehearsed a few extra moves and disguised his attack underwater. But he’s a gentleman. I’m sure he wouldn’t do such a thing.’

Sidney remembered Cardinal Newman’s definition of a gentleman as ‘one who inflicts no pain’. Now it was possible that they were dealing with the exact opposite.

‘Then who do you think would?’ Sidney asked.

‘Someone who had other reasons. Someone who wanted, perhaps, to ruin Andy Balfour’s career.’

They took it in turns to stroke Dickens’s back and massage his legs, placing warm blankets around him. He had given up wanting food and water and was waiting to die. Sidney felt that all he could do now was to stay by the side of his loyal old friend for as long as he needed him.

The doorbell rang and Sidney assumed it might be the vet but the visitor was none other than Daisy Playfair. She was dropping off the coat Sidney had asked about.

‘That is not my husband’s,’ Hildegard was saying.

‘It’s the one he asked for.’

Sidney emerged from the kitchen. ‘It’s all right, Hildegard. Daisy and I
.
.
. we have
.
.
.’ and with Hildegard’s gaze upon him he felt temporarily unable to express what it was they actually did have.

‘I’ve been looking after him,’ Daisy explained. ‘Making sure he doesn’t get into any trouble.’

‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ Hildegard asked calmly.

‘That’s very kind but I can’t stop. I’m always on the go. Your husband just wanted the coat.’

‘You’re a dear,’ said Sidney, letting the coat drop from his hand. ‘It’s lighter than I expected. I thought it would be heavier. Are you sure it’s the right one?’

‘It’s labelled with the actor’s name. We always do that.’

‘You couldn’t have made a mistake?’

‘We don’t make mistakes, Sidney.’ She knelt down to pick up the coat. ‘Look.’

‘Curious.’

‘I need it before we go, mind, or the girls will have to pay for it. It’s due back at Angels on Monday.’

‘I’ll come and find you.’

‘You know where I am,’ Daisy smiled.

Sidney closed the door to meet the quizzical gaze of his wife. ‘That was entertaining. First that woman in the art gallery and now this
.
.
.’

‘I like to think of them as my reward for all the elderly spinsters I visit.’

‘You haven’t seen many of
them
lately, Sidney. What are you up to?’

Derek Jarvis had been the Cambridge coroner for over ten years. Sidney had not liked the man at first, principally because he had a slightly awkward manner and put efficiency before charm, telling him that a clergyman had no place in the world of criminal investigation. He had suggested that Sidney should confine himself to providing consolation after death rather than enquiring why it had happened in the first place.

However, after a few initial problems, the two men had become firm friends through a mutual love of cricket and fine wine. They also trusted each other’s judgement and Derek Jarvis had made it clear to Sidney that he no longer considered his semi-professional visits a waste of time.

‘You are, however, pushing me on this one, Sidney. The case is considered closed.’

‘I know, Derek, but what’s an overcoat between friends?’

‘And you’d like my colleagues to take a close look at it without telling anyone else?’

‘That is correct.’

‘Not even Keating?’

‘I am more afraid of him than I am of you.’

‘That is a lie, Sidney. You just trouble him more frequently.’

The coroner listened to a further account of the priest’s suspicions and asked if he was to check for evidence of lead weights or any other heavy substance in the lining.