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

have a holiday? You must be exhausted.’
    ‘I am. I find all this rather depressing, I am afraid.’
    Amanda continued to study his face as she spoke. ‘Betrayal, anger and mistrust. It’s not a good start to the year.’
    Nigel returned to the room. ‘Daphne has been on the telephone. She was asking if there had been any sign of the ring and if there was anything she could do to help. It might be worth your going to see her, Sidney.’
    ‘I can’t imagine I’d be welcome.’
    ‘She tells me that you offered to see her lodger, although I think she refers to him as a “paying guest”. Doesn’t he want a job as a curate or something?’
    ‘I didn’t plan on going so soon.’
    ‘Well, they are both ready for you now. I could give you a lift.’
    ‘No time like the present,’ said Amanda.
    Nigel was putting on his coat. ‘It’s a twenty-minute drive across to Hereford Square. I hope you don’t mind.’
    It was quite extraordinary, Sidney thought, to have the control over his life taken away with such entitled ease.
     
    It was after five o’clock when Sidney rang the doorbell of Daphne Young’s flat in South Kensington. As he did so, he continued to wonder when his life was going to return to normal. He should have been in his study preparing for Epiphany, but now the only revelations in his life were all too human. The reason he felt so unsettled, he decided, was because these investigations forced him to think about life in a manner that was contrary both to his character and his faith. As a priest he was expected to be charitable and think the best of people, tolerating their behaviour and forgiving their sins; but as an amateur sleuth he found that the requirements were the exact opposite. Now his task was to be suspicious, to think less of everybody, suspect his or her motives and trust no one. It was not the Christian way.
    Daphne Young was wearing a pale pink afternoon dress with bands of bright red dotted Swiss cotton alternating with ivory lace. ‘Let me take your cloak,’ she began. ‘I always think they make priests look like vampires.’
    ‘That is not the intended effect, I can assure you.’
    ‘Mr Graham has left in search of shortbread. You remember that he is a clergyman who is keen to meet you? Would you like some tea?’
    ‘I wouldn’t want to detain you.’
    ‘I was hoping to get down to Brighton this evening to see my father. He’s on his own. Then I will have Sunday lunch in the country. Do you know the Longstaffs?’
    ‘You asked me that last night.’
    ‘Friends of the Quickmains. Lord Teversham’s often there. Lovely people.’
    ‘Your father, you say?’
    ‘A daughter’s duty,’ Daphne Young replied. ‘But I like to be social. It’s not often I’m in town at the weekend. Now, of course, the idea of a London dinner party is even less attractive.’
    ‘Last night was very difficult.’
    ‘It was, Canon Chambers. Although why the Thompsons can’t go to the police is beyond me. I suppose it’s all to do with Nigel worrying about his reputation. He doesn’t want to be in The Times for the wrong reasons.’
    ‘I think it is a matter of discretion.’
    ‘Even if the crime is obvious?’
    ‘You think Johnny Johnson stole the ring?’
    ‘I can’t imagine anyone else doing such a thing.’
    ‘But why would he want to do that? He’d only just met everyone.’
    ‘Why do people steal, Canon Chambers? I suppose that is something for someone of your profession to consider. Is it the need for money or could it not also be the thrill of the crime? Could it even be seen as a kind of revenge, a political act against the wealthy, an attempt to restore some kind of social balance?’
    ‘I see you have thought of this in the past.’
    ‘I am a trained psychologist, Canon Chambers, as I think you know. But this case seems pretty straightforward. Mr Johnson’s background certainly provides pause for thought.’
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘Don’t you know?’
    Sidney gave a brief shake of the head.
    ‘His father is Phil “the Cat” Johnson: a well-known jewel thief.’
    ‘How do you know?’
    ‘My father is a retired jeweller, Canon Chambers. Johnson was notorious. Of course if the Thompsons had involved the police then they would have looked through their files, put two and two together, and the whole sordid business would be over and done with.’
    ‘I had no idea,’ said Sidney.
    ‘Did Jennifer not tell you?’
    ‘It’s possible she did not know. His