Sidney Chambers and The Shadow of Death (The Grantchester Mysteries)

back from his slumped and stabbed position with my right hand. Then he was to look me in the eye and say: “Et tu, Brute?” I stabbed him on the nearside left, the same side as his heart, so the audience could see us both. After I had done this he was to say “Then fall, Caesar”; but by the time I lifted him up he was already limp and half-dead and I couldn’t keep him upright.’
    ‘You think he was already wounded?’
    ‘I do now: although I didn’t think so at the time. I thought he was just over-acting. The director told him that he should be as passive as Jesus and that this would be a Christ-like moment. I was supposed to hold him by the hair at the back of his head and let him stand centre-stage with the conspirators in a semicircle around him. It was a version of the Last Supper, I suppose, and Caesar was then meant to open his arms, as if he had the stigmata, and fall forward, only turning on to his side at the last minute. But as soon as I let go of his body he just crumpled.’
    ‘Why did it take people so long to realise what had happened?’
    ‘Because we thought that Dominic was having his great moment. It didn’t occur to any of us that he was paying for the performance with his life.’
    Inspector Keating allowed a moment’s silence. ‘Of course, it could still have been you that administered the fatal blow. You were playing the part of Brutus, the noblest Roman of them all.’
    ‘Yes, it could have been me, I suppose. But it was not. I loved that man. I would never have harmed him; no matter what happened between us. He was my friend.’
    ‘What do you mean, “What happened between us”?’
    ‘We used to work together; as I am sure you know.’
    ‘What was the state of your relationship on the day of the murder?’
    ‘We have always been perfectly civil to one another. There was no animosity, if that is what you are implying. We both acknowledged that some things have to come to an end.’
    ‘And you didn’t mind about that?’
    ‘There is no point dwelling on what might have been. My passion is for silver and for antiques, rather than paintings, and I set up a new business after I stopped working for Lord Teversham. Dominic even lent me some money.’
    ‘May I ask how much?’
    ‘A thousand pounds.’
    ‘Rather a lot.’
    ‘I was paying it back. I think he felt guilty that our working relationship had come to an end.’
    ‘And why did it?’
    ‘There was nothing specific. If anything, the feeling was mutual. I had always wanted to start something on my own and I had neglected my wife. I’m sure you know how it is, Inspector. When a man works too much his wife often complains.’
    Sidney looked to his friend for a reply, but he said nothing. Instead, he nodded, encouraging Simon Hackford to continue.
    ‘Now I have my antique shop and I work with my wife all the time. That is why I would like to go home. I start to feel ill when we are apart. It’s almost a physical sensation. Have you ever felt like that, Inspector?’
    Keating answered at last. ‘To be honest, most of the time I’m quite glad to get away from home; but I can see what you might mean. There’s no need to detain you any longer, Mr Hackford.’
    It was three in the morning and Sidney was exhausted. If he had been a monk he would be getting up for the first prayers of the day. Instead he was at a crime scene, having a cup of tea with a police inspector who was becoming increasingly exasperated.
    ‘You would have thought it would be a simple matter, wouldn’t you, Sidney? One of the stage knives is tampered with, or replaced. It goes missing. We find it and then we discover who did the deed. But, in fact, we have no suspect, no fingerprints and, so far, no knife.’
    ‘I was wondering,’ Sidney said at last, ‘if the choice of murder scene might be deliberate?’
    ‘More than opportunist?’
    ‘What I mean is that there might be clues in the play itself. Caesar is killed for different reasons: partly because he is vain, and partly because of mob desire. But Brutus kills him out of civic duty: “a piece of work that will make sick men whole.” It could perhaps boil down to a question of honour, social obligation or revenge.’
    The inspector gave one of his familiar sighs. ‘I’m all for revenge as a motive, Sidney, but you mean someone might also be doing it for the good of society?’
    ‘It’s a thought. The German poet Schiller, for example, referred to the theatre as a moral