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

spoons.’
    Simon Hackford put on his white gloves. His hands had a slight shake to them. Sidney wondered if he was a secret drinker.
    ‘I think they may need a bit of a polish.’ Simon Hackford undid the gold metal clasp and opened the box. Then he stopped. ‘Oh my God.’ He stepped back in horror. ‘How did that get there?’
    All the spoons had been removed. Instead, resting on a crumpled piece of white satin, lay a short bloodied dagger.
     
    ‘That’s our man,’ said Inspector Keating.
    ‘I think he is innocent,’ Sidney replied.
    Inspector Keating sighed. ‘You never trust a simple solution, do you, Sidney? I suppose you think the weapon was planted deliberately in order to implicate Simon Hackford?’
    ‘I do.’
    ‘The man is a former business partner of Lord Teversham. God knows how close they were. He ceases to be a business partner. He stops being a friend. His own business has its difficulties. He plays the part of a murderer in the play. He is the last man to stab Lord Teversham. It could hardly be more obvious.’
    ‘Too obvious, Inspector.’
    ‘I’m sorry that you think that. But until you can come up with something better Simon Hackford is under arrest.’
     
    Sidney knew that he was probably the only man in Cambridge who could help the accused. ‘I believe that you are innocent,’ he told Simon Hackford. ‘But I must have more information if I am to find out who did it. I need to know the names of all the key-holders and everyone who has come into your shop since the arrival of the Apostle spoons.’
    Simon Hackford was so distressed that he found it difficult to speak. ‘Some of them were strangers; customers. But my wife knows most of the regulars who have been in to see us. Is there a way in which you can ask them questions without making it clear what has happened?’
    ‘We can be discreet,’ said Sidney. ‘It is a matter of making connections. It would be helpful if you could have some idea about who might have committed the murder other than you.’
    ‘I need to be sure that what I say will go no further.’
    ‘You have my assurance.’
    Simon Hackford stopped for a moment. He looked more frightened of what he was about to say than any confession of murder. ‘I am not sure if I can trust you. You are in cahoots with the police.’
    ‘I am, but my first duty is as a priest. It outweighs all other concerns.’
    ‘What if I were to tell you that I was guilty of something else?’
    ‘I would urge you to be discreet if what I think you may be about to tell me is correct.’
    ‘Then you have guessed what it might be?’
    Sidney paused. ‘I imagine that you had a close relationship with Lord Teversham?’
    ‘That is correct.’
    ‘Then that is all you need to tell me. You will let me read between the lines?’
    ‘I will.’
    ‘However, you had a falling out?’
    ‘We did.’
    ‘When Ben Blackwood arrived?’
    ‘I am not saying they are as intimate as we were, or that Blackwood is a murderer. But I do not think he is entirely innocent. He wheedled his way into Dominic’s affection and he’s probably after the paintings. But if I say all that . . .’
    ‘Then he could retaliate . . .’
    ‘Exactly. You know what it is like.’
    ‘I don’t know what it is like but I can imagine it.’
    ‘Even though the law may change, we cannot talk about such things for fear of exposure. This makes us vulnerable.’
    ‘You think the murderer may have been Ben Blackwood or perhaps even another, equally intimate, friend of Lord Teversham?’
    ‘It is not impossible.’
    ‘But who?’
    ‘That, Canon Chambers, is what you need to discover.’
     
    Sidney felt out of his depth and he decided to ask his curate for advice. There was a world of secrecy, suggestion and innuendo around this case that he could not fathom. He suspected that Leonard had opinions on the matter even if he did not voice them explicitly.
    The time came when the two men were sitting at the kitchen table and eating a frugal lunch of sardines on toast. Sidney had conveyed the news of Simon Hackford’s arrest and suggested that he considered this to be a mistake. He also noted that the mutterings about homosexuality in general had increased of late, both in Cambridge and within the pages of The Times , and he wondered if his curate had an opinion on the matter.
    ‘The Archbishop of Canterbury has, of course, made the position of the Church on this subject perfectly clear,’ Leonard explained carefully.