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

situation.’
    ‘I’m sure you’ve seen it all before.’
    ‘I mean the case. The murders. There is evil involved. I don’t think either Miss Randall nor your husband know exactly what we are up against and there’s certainly no time for distractions. We’ll be too busy to go to the pub or worry about gossip. They’re underestimating everything.’
    ‘But if the devil makes work for idle hands . . .’
    ‘Then the way to combat him is to make those hands less idle and fight evil with all the strength that we can muster.’
    They had arrived at the turn into Trumpington Street where their paths diverged. ‘You’re a good man,’ said Cathy Keating before leaning forward and giving her confidant an unexpected peck on the cheek.
     
    Sidney collected his post from the Porters’ Lodge, looked it through and then proceeded to the Eagle, where he intended to question his friend. Inspector Keating was, however, properly preoccupied. A decapitated blackbird had been left outside Helena Randall’s front door.
    ‘She’s frightened, Sidney. She needs a bit of comfort.’
    ‘That is bad. But you’ll have to work out how much comfort you are prepared to provide.’
    ‘For God’s sake, man, she’s a worried woman.’
    ‘We mustn’t be distracted.’
    ‘I’ve already told you. Miss Randall is a help and not a hindrance. She is a vulnerable young girl and a material witness. How many people do you know who have had dead blackbirds left on their doorstep? And dead doves too, for that matter? Look what happened after you found them.’
    ‘We don’t know the birds are connected with murder.’
    ‘I don’t know how much more evidence we need to draw that conclusion.’
    ‘Nothing more has happened since the blackbird was found. And I still think it’s a mistake to see too much of Miss Randall.’
    ‘What do you mean?’
    ‘It’s a matter of reputation. You don’t want to be seen with her in off-duty situations that might be compromising. Your wife . . .’
    ‘What’s Cathy got to do with it?’
    Sidney realised he had put his foot in it and that it was now too late to retract. Why had he brought Geordie’s wife into the conversation?
    ‘She’s worried,’ he answered, rather too firmly, remembering how his father had once told him to be particularly emphatic when you already know that you are in the wrong.
    ‘Have you been talking to my wife?’
    ‘I bumped into her outside the butcher’s.’
    ‘That’s very convenient.’
    ‘It was a coincidence, I can assure you. We had a very good chat.’
    ‘My marriage is private, Sidney, as is yours,’ Keating snapped. ‘That’s one thing I can teach you: stay out of any relationship that’s not your own. You never know what goes on in other people’s bedrooms and never will. What we have to do is solve this bloody case before it gets even more out of hand than it is already.’ He slapped a half-crown on the bar. ‘Now get me a pint, for God’s sake, and have one yourself. You look like you need it and we have to sort this out.’
     
    Later that evening, as Sidney cycled slowly back to Grantchester, he considered the choice of birds in the case. Dead doves could simply be a warning of a shattered peace. Surely, he thought, a raven should have been next, the bird that never returned to Noah’s ark, scavenger of carrion, and, in some cultures, the ghost of a murder victim. So, why a blackbird? And did it provide any clues as to who might be the next victim? A journalist perhaps, since his own warning placement of doves had preceded the death of Philip Agnew, a man in the same profession as Sidney. He decided to make a few enquiries about the editor of the Cambridge Evening News and, even though he knew such thoughts were despicable, he might also find out if the man was married. Although he did not like Patrick Harland’s insinuations, he could not ignore them, especially if a hatred of homosexuals were to prove a motive for murder.
    Hildegard was