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

Robinson felt that he was performing a useful and compassionate service, and if he imagined that he was acting for a higher moral purpose, then perhaps he believed that he could carry on, take things further and justify what he was doing. I think that by intervening you stopped him doing anything more.’
    ‘I don’t know about that.’
    ‘I think I do, Canon Chambers. It could have got out of control.’
    ‘Sidney, please . . .’
    ‘I think not. It doesn’t pay for a man to be too familiar with his priest. What you did, Canon Chambers, was to cut off any possibility that he could justify his actions. Your presence reminded him that there were God’s laws as well as man’s, and that even if he could explain his behaviour with a clear conscience on this earth then he might still be answerable to a stricter ethical power in the afterlife.’
    ‘How do you know this?’
    ‘Inspector Keating told me that Dr Robinson found you rather disconcerting. It was why he sent you. He knew that moral authority would carry more weight than the force of the law. He’s cleverer than you think, that man.’
    ‘I do not doubt it.’
    ‘And there were things that you said. They made the doctor pause.’
    ‘I do not think I said very much.’
    ‘It was enough. Of course, I am guessing what passed between you but I know enough to realise that I need to thank you. You did not have to do what you did but you did and I appreciate it. I am sorry not to have been as welcoming as I should have been when you came to see me. I will not make that mistake in future.’
    ‘And I will try not to be disconcerting.’
    ‘To a man with a guilty conscience everything is troubling.’
    ‘I imagine so.’
    ‘And a clear conscience is the only way to live, Canon Chambers, and, of course, a clear head. Now, shall we open the wine? It must be six o’clock and we have an excuse. The Lenten days have passed.’
    ‘I would be delighted,’ Sidney replied.
     
    On Easter Thursday the traditional social meeting with Inspector Keating in the RAF bar of The Eagle returned to form.
    ‘It’s good to see you back to your old self, Sidney,’ his friend began as they settled down to their first pint of the evening. ‘Although I wasn’t expecting you to come with Dickens. It’s a wife you need, not a dog.’
    ‘A dog is all that I was offered, unfortunately.’
    ‘There are women other than Miss Kendall. I thought you were rather partial to that German widow?’
    ‘Too soon, Geordie, and, in a way, too late.’
    ‘People always find excuses. Sometimes it’s best just to get on with it.’
    ‘Indeed,’ mused Sidney, thinking of Keating’s wife and three children.
    The inspector took a long draft of beer. ‘At least your man seems to have got away with it.’
    Sidney gave his friend a stern look. ‘He’s not “my man”, Geordie. And he acted within the boundaries of the law.’
    ‘The coroner’s turned a blind eye, if you ask me. He’s softer than I thought . . .’
    ‘That he may be,’ mused Sidney. ‘You still suspect malpractice?’
    ‘I’m not sure.’
    ‘The doctor knew what he was doing.’
    ‘Only too well, it seems.’
    ‘And I think his motives were genuine. It was winter: the season of pneumonia, friend of the aged. A moral decision can sometimes take more courage than we think.’
    Inspector Keating did not appear to be listening. He was still brooding over the case and finished his drink at a canter. ‘Nonetheless, you have to admit that it’s been a difficult business.’ He looked into his empty pint glass. ‘Sherlock Holmes may have had his two-pipe problem but I’m rather hoping ours are more like two-pint problems . . .’
    ‘Very droll . . .’ Sidney replied. ‘Another?’
    ‘That would be kind.’
    ‘We will never really know, will we? What goes on in the minds of men.’
    ‘Or women . . .’ his friend replied before catching the barman’s attention.
    The inspector laid out the board of backgammon as Sidney collected the drinks. ‘It’s a funny thing, the whole business of love, is it not?’ He was speaking almost to himself. ‘I suppose I take it for granted, I have everything at home, Cathy and the children, and it just felt natural to us but I suppose for other people it’s a different story.’
    Sidney put the pints down on the table. ‘I am sure that most people like to feel their own story is unique.’
    ‘But you, my friend, have a series of different possibilities: books with