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Charlie crept silently across the yard. The guard was removed quickly and silently. Once tied and gagged, he was left in the trees at the back of the yard before Charlie swept his hat off the floor, and dragged his over large jacket over his own clothing.
Thankfully, the meeting place was just on the opposite side of the back door. It was difficult to hear what was said, but Charlie was able to peer into the room though the poorly fitting shutters over the windows. The solitary candle in the room gave enough light to see Snetterton, Meldrew and two other men, whom Charlie was sure had been present on the night of Blagmire’s murder, all seated around a table.
The sight of the package being handed to Meldrew was all Charlie needed to see, but he watched Meldrew carefully remove the ties that held the package together. The huge pile of notes the man carefully flicked through before he gave Snetterton a nod was enough to condemn the verger to a very long time in jail.
Charlie looked at Barnaby, who was standing on the opposite side of the window, also witnessing what was happening.
“It’s a pay-off,” Hugo whispered in Charlie’s ear.
Charlie nodded. “Silence money for the murder? Or protection money because he is scared that he is going to be Meldrew’s next victim if he doesn’t pay?”
He lifted his brows at Hugo, who nodded toward the men in the room. “Looks a bit too friendly to me.”
Charlie looked back in time to catch the hearty hand-shake the men exchanged amid grins and a liberal helping of the innkeeper’s best brandy.
“I think the innkeeper himself is passing on information to Meldrew about what is discussed in his tavern,” Charlie whispered. He nodded to the man who was busy replenishing everybody’s glasses, including his own, and bit back a surge of anger at the innkeeper’s duplicity.
“Is there anything there we can arrest him for?”
“Providing Meldrew with information?” Charlie asked hopefully only for Hugo to roll his eyes and shake his head.
“We need something far more substantial,” Hugo sighed. “Although, I think that once the locals find out what the innkeeper has been doing to their families and businesses, his trade will be destroyed.”
“Mob justice,” Charlie drawled with satisfaction.
The satisfied tone of his voice was all Hugo needed to hear, and he clapped his colleague on the shoulder in a gesture of solidarity.
“Come on. Let’s find somewhere to watch where Meldrew goes next.” He motioned to Barnaby. “You and Luke follow Meldrew, but keep your distance. I don’t want that bastard getting you too. Charlie and I will go and search the rectory while our verger is being less than holy.”
Barnaby nodded and melted into the shadows.
Luke nodded to the door. “What do we do about the guard?”
Charlie grinned, and eyed a crate of empty bottles at the back of the yard. He beckoned to his colleague, who helped carry the still unconscious man back to the door. Once he was half-seated, Charlie placed an empty bottle under his arm and, with a smirk at Hugo, left the man to face his employer.
Satisfied that nobody would know what had happened, Charlie followed Hugo to the Rectory. They gained entrance through a side window that was partly covered by rampant clematis, but provided more than enough coverage to hide them from prying eyes. Once inside, they wasted no time searching the ground floor before they met in the vicar’s study.
“There are a lot of Arthur’s things still here,” Charlie sighed. He eyed the ornate pot of ink sadly. Charlie knew Arthur’s father had gifted him on his eighteenth birthday. It was something of a family heirloom, but the last thing Arthur had wanted at the time. He had griped about it for days afterward, before he had promptly gone out and purchased the one thing he had truly desired above all else - a new curricle.
“I think that Arthur’s family haven’t been informed,” Charlie sighed as he eyed the ink pot.
“What makes you say that?” Hugo frowned.
He quickly explained. “Arthur’s family would almost certainly want his possessions returning to them. Some of these items are heirlooms, and have belonged to the family for generations. I don’t know of any family that would simply forget about them – do you?”
Hugo shook his head. “So nobody other than the locals who are busy trying to deal with Meldrew’s bullying antics, know that the Vicar is dead.”
“Looks like it,” Charlie growled. “He is buried in the churchyard here too.”
“The family would have requested him to be interred in the family crypt rather than be buried in a nondescript place like this.” Hugo swore viciously, picked up several pieces of parchment, and tipped them toward the window so that he could read the writing.
Charlie turned his attention to the rest of the study. Together, the men began to search.
Minutes later, they both froze when the soft rattle of the front door broke the silence. Unfortunately, given the way the room was furnished, there was no place for either man to hide.
Charlie quickly moved into position behind the door. Hugo vanished into the darkest shadows in the corner of the room. Both men remained perfectly still while the verger entered the house. The front door closed. The sound of the bolt being slid across was followed by the heavy thump of boots on the stairs as Snetterton made his way to bed. Their eyes traced the footsteps across the ceiling, all the way to the bedroom that overlooked the front of the building.
They gave Snetterton enough time to get himself into bed and, once the house had settled once more into silence, began to search in earnest.
