Read Sidney Chambers and The Problem of Evil (The Grantchester Mysteries) for Free Online

loud. She shrugged and turned away. Sidney watched her go, and then pushed his bike forward into the road, towards home.
    He missed Hildegard, though it wasn’t even lunchtime. He remembered her coming naked to bed the previous night and saying, ‘Don’t look at me. I’m shy.’
    ‘I can’t help it,’ Sidney had replied. ‘It’s the best bit of the day.’
     
    That afternoon, Jerome Benson was taken to St Andrew’s Street police station and questioned about his brother’s disappearance. Despite the heat he had persisted in wearing his hunting clothes. He would not sit down or accept a glass of water and it was clear that he did not intend to be persecuted on account of his profession or appearance. After a series of ‘No Comments’ he finally snapped, ‘I don’t know why you are asking me all these questions. I am not my brother’s keeper.’
    Keating remained unusually patient. ‘We need to know where your brother might have gone . . .’
    ‘He told the clergyman Birmingham . . .’
    ‘Do you believe he has got anything against priests?’
    ‘No more than most people.’
    ‘You think most people don’t value priests?’ Sidney asked.
    ‘They are tolerated. I don’t think many people take what you do seriously. Look at how much spare time you have to go meddling in other people’s lives . . .’
    ‘I don’t see it as meddling.’
    ‘Well, I do. My brother and I have done nothing wrong. We’re both pretty anti-social . . . a bit misanthropic, I suppose, as you may have noticed; and we are likely to become more so after all this.’
    Keating began to pace around the room, leaving Sidney to continue with the questioning. ‘Your brother is a jazz musician?’
    ‘That is no insurance against misanthropy.’
    ‘But he gets out and about. He goes on tour. He plays nightclubs. People applaud . . .’
    ‘And then he has to face himself again when all the clapping stops. We are both prone to depression, if you must know. Jimmy has more ups and downs than I do. But that is probably because he uses chemicals rather differently. I use them for my taxidermy whereas he . . .’
    ‘Injects straight into his arm?’ Keating cut in.
    ‘I leave you to fill in the blanks. You don’t need me to tell you about that kind of thing.’
    There was a pause that Sidney soon remedied. ‘A long time ago, you told me that birds are your favourite form of taxidermy. “They die so beautifully,” you said. I wondered if you could help us consider the implications of one element of this case. Dead doves have been left on my doorstep. Do you think that this particular choice of birds is significant?’
    ‘As a portent or warning, you mean? I would have thought a raven might have more significance. Or a bird of prey – a falcon, for example, or even a vulture.’
    ‘They may not be so easy to come by.’
    Inspector Keating stopped his pacing round the room. ‘Have any of your animals gone missing recently?’
    ‘None at all.’
    ‘Is your brother homosexual?’
    ‘What’s that got to do with anything?’
    ‘I just need to know.’
    ‘We don’t talk about things like that.’
    ‘Are you?’
    ‘That is none of your business.’
    ‘Neither of you are married.’ Keating continued.
    ‘That does not make us homosexual . . .’
    ‘I am aware of that.’
    ‘What am I being accused of?’
    ‘Nothing.’
    ‘I would like a lawyer if you are going to question me in this way . . .’
    ‘We are not accusing you of anything, Mr Benson . . .’
    ‘But you are asking leading questions. I prefer to live on my own without men or women. It is easier that way: protection from the false hopes and disappointments of love.’
    ‘And you have been let down in the past?’
    ‘My mother left my father. It broke his heart. Ever since then I swore that such a thing would never happen to me. Solitude makes life safer.’
    ‘You don’t feel that you are missing out?’
    ‘Never.’
    ‘And your brother is the same?’
    ‘I