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The caretaker shook his head vigorously. ‘He hates ’em. Not that he would ever say owt, mind. He’s frightened, if you ask me. And what’s more–’

But the caretaker got no further because a voice rang out.

‘Hey!’

They turned to see Edgar Rose-Harvey walking rapidly towards them, his heels clicking on the shiny floor and reverberating around the empty hall. His expression was thunderous; it was the first time the detectives had seen him lose control of his emotions.

‘Get back to your work!’ he yelled at the caretaker. ‘If anyone talks to the police, it will be me, do you understand?’

The caretaker gave him a disrespectful leer, turned on his heel and left the hall.

‘You don’t exactly seem to have a Christian-like way with people,’ said Blizzard.

‘Sometimes you have to be firm, Chief Inspector.’ Rose-Harvey was back in control of his emotions again. ‘You have to take difficult decisions.’

‘And that includes driving away older members of the congregation, does it?’ said Blizzard. He had found himself angered by what he was hearing. ‘People who have been coming here for years? People who fought to save it two years ago?’

‘But they were only delaying the inevitable,’ said Rose-Harvey. ‘Do you know how many people regularly attended this church when we arrived? Twenty-one. And do you know what their average age was? Seventy-three. This church was dying – literally. Now the congregation is past one hundred with an average age of twenty-six. Without us, this church would have been closed down. You might not like our methods, Chief Inspector, but we are the saviours of St John’s, not the old ones.’

‘Yes, but surely driving away older people is not the way to do things?’ said Blizzard.

‘They were welcome to stay. It’s just that they decided they didn’t like our way of worshipping.’ Rose-Harvey gave Blizzard a sly look. ‘Anyway, I did not realise that it was the police’s job to judge people’s morality.’

Blizzard scowled.

‘No,’ said Rose-Harvey, and his face assumed a dreamy expression. ‘No, we have done what we had to do. It is our task to carry the Lord’s message into the world and to shine a bright light into dark hearts. Nothing can stand in the way of our mission.’

‘Yes, well, just make sure that it does not get in the way of my mission,’ said Blizzard. ‘I warn you, Mr Rose-Harvey, if I discover that you and your people are involved in any of this, there will be hell to–’

‘I do not appreciate being threatened, Chief Inspector,’ said Rose-Harvey calmly. ‘And you would do well to remember that I have some powerful friends.’

‘If you mean God…’

‘Actually, I was thinking of something a touch more secular,’ said Rose-Harvey. ‘City Hall. They may feel that we overstepped the mark in agreeing to take Albert Macklin but they still support the general thrust of what we are doing here. Something for you to bear in mind.’

Blizzard glowered at him and stalked across the hall without replying to the comment. Rose-Harvey looked at the sergeant.

‘I sense a lot of pent-up anger in your chief inspector,’ he said.

‘Yeah, he gets like that when people get killed on his patch,’ said Colley. ‘Especially young people.’

‘If only we could bring the Lord into his life…’

‘He’d only arrest him,’ said Colley. He turned as the forensics officers entered the room. ‘Please make sure that our people are given the time that they need to do their work. You can tell the Lord that his house is ours for the next few hours. Send him a text, or however you communicate with him.’

And with that, Colley followed Blizzard into the car park where the inspector was leaning on the roof of his vehicle, looking up pensively at the picture glass window.

‘They’re off their heads,’ said Colley.

‘And I’m not picking up much sense of peace,’ said the inspector. ‘There is something very wrong here, David. I don’t understand it yet but it’s making me feel very uneasy.’

‘I’m inclined to agree. I know it’s a church and all that, but there’s an awful lot of hostility. Did you see the effect that Rose-Harvey had on the vicar?’

‘I did, yes.’ Blizzard unlocked his car door. ‘Come on… grieving parents await.’

‘The day just gets better and better,’ said Colley.

They were about to get into the vehicle when they were approached by a white-haired elderly man smartly attired in a brown suit and tie.

‘Chief Inspector Blizzard?’ he asked.

‘That’s me.’

‘I wonder if I could have a word?’

‘Is it about what happened to Jamie Holdsworth?’ asked the inspector.

‘No, it’s about my wife,’ said the old man. ‘She went missing last year.’

‘Well, I’m afraid I’m a bit busy so maybe you can pop down to Abbey Road? I am sure they can hel…’

The pensioner reached into his coat pocket and produced a faded colour photograph of a grey-haired elderly woman sitting at a table with a cup of coffee in front of her.

‘That’s her,’ he said. ‘Her name is Martha. I’m Thomas. People call me Tom.’

Hard as he tried, Blizzard could not recall the details of the case but he had a vague idea that he had read a report about her. The inspector frowned; he had always been acutely aware that every report that landed on his desk related not to a statistic but to a person, to a family, to a deeply personal tragedy, but the pressure of the job sometimes made him forget the fact. He looked at the old man, whose eyes now glistened with tears.

‘I’m sorry, Mr Raine,’ he said. His tone was softer. ‘How can I help you?’

‘She was last seen at the post office on Low Street. There was a big search for her. Don’t you remember?’

‘I’m sorry, we get a lot of missing people in our area,’ said Blizzard.

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