Chapter 11

Will dropped the papers and raked his fingers through his hair. How the hell had this gone unnoticed? How could seven females have been murdered in September at two-year intervals and no one noticed?

How could he not have noticed?

Will thumbed through the stack of newspaper clippings Reynolds had attached to the file.

Brian Randolph leaned back in his chair and locked his hands over his chest. “Those are murders that took place in September, seventeen, nineteen, and twenty-one years ago.”

Will scanned the articles. He shook his head. “These didn’t take place in London.”

“No, they took place in a small village about two hours north of London. They only received notoriety because the village was so small and no one could remember a murder ever having been committed there, let alone three in six years.”

“Why should these be of interest to us?”

“Read one of the articles and you’ll see,” Brian said, remaining seated while Will read.

On Saturday last, the entire village of Petersfield filled the small local church to say their final goodbye to twenty-year-old Milly Angela Winslow. Those in attendance said there wasn’t room for one more mourner to crowd into the church.

According to the local magistrate, Miss Winslow was reported missing by her parents on 15 September, when she didn’t return home after attending a local fair with her sisters. After an extensive search by a large group of local residents, Miss Winslow’s strangled body was discovered in a wooded area east of Petersfield.

Milly Winslow’s mother and father, as well as three sisters and four brothers stood at the grave while the Reverend Josiah Fletcher read the 23rd Psalm. Then each family member as well as relatives and friends placed handfuls of dirt atop Miss Winslow’s coffin.

A light lunch was served in the—

Will stopped reading as his eyes darted up to the earlier paragraph. ‘while the Reverend Josiah Fletcher read’…

“Bloody hell!” Will grabbed the next article and the next. Reverend Fletcher had performed each of the funeral services.

“You’re a genius!” Will told his secretary. He slid his chair back and bolted to his feet. He opened his top drawer and grabbed a gun from his desk, then stormed across the room.

“Do you want someone to go with you?” Reynolds asked. “I can send for Thompson and Wallace. They returned a little while ago.”

Will knew Randolph was worried for his safety, but Will was so angry, Josiah Fletcher was the only one in danger.

Will shook his head. “I’ll be fine.”

“What shall I do about the brothers, sir?” Randolph called.

“Let them be on their way!”

Before Reynolds could say more, Will bounded past him and out into the late afternoon sunshine.

He couldn’t believe he had never considered Reverend Fletcher. He’d interrogated the reverend’s sons, but not once had he considered Reverend Fletcher might be the murderer.

Will’s legs ate the distance to St. Dunstan’s church as if the hounds of hell were nipping at his heels. Ginny was there. Walking right into the devil’s lair!

. . .

It was getting late when Ginny returned to St. Dunstan’s. She told herself she needed to stay away from Lizzy’s grave, that she didn’t need to find out any more information. And she knew that Will wouldn’t appreciate her interference. But she couldn’t stay away. She would stop by quickly, then go on to the rectory with her bundle of baked goods.

She knew they were close to finding out who had killed Lizzy. Ginny just hoped it wasn’t Wesley Fletcher. She didn’t know how Reverend Fletcher would take knowing that his son was a murderer.

She entered the gate that led to the cemetery and made her way to her mother’s grave. She placed the flowers she’d purchased from a street vendor on her mother’s grave, then continued on to Lizzy’s grave and placed flowers there, as well.

“We’re going to find the person who killed you, Lizzy. Will won’t rest until he’s brought your killer to justice.”

Of course there wasn’t an answer. Ginny hadn’t expected there to be one. She knelt at Lizzy’s grave for a moment, then rose. She’d been gone from the shop long enough. She felt guilty for the time she’d been absent and promised herself that starting tomorrow, she’d be more of a help to her sisters.

She took a final look at Lizzy’s grave, then turned to leave.

“Is that you, Ginny?” a voice said from behind her.

Ginny turned. A smile lit her face. “Hello, Reverend Fletcher.”

The reverend returned her smile and walked toward her.

He was so very handsome—tall and broad-shouldered—and held himself in a dignified manner. She’d never understood why he hadn’t remarried after his first wife died. Perhaps he’d loved her so much that no one could take her place.

Ginny’s smile broadened. It wasn’t that no female had tried to snatch him for her husband. There was always a crowd of widows and single women vying for his attention after each Sunday morning service. And the reverend never lacked a Sunday dinner invitation.

“I haven’t helped but notice that you’re a frequent visitor to Elizabeth de Wolfe’s grave. I didn’t realize you were close friends.”

“Not close, but we were acquaintances.”

“Her death was such a tragedy,” he said when he reached her.

“Yes.”

“Do you think the inspector will ever discover who was responsible for Elizabeth’s death?”

“I have no doubt he will,” Ginny answered with confidence. “In fact, I believe he is quite close to discovering the murderer as we speak.”

Reverend Fletcher raised his eyebrows. “Do you?”

“Yes. The last time we spoke, he was quite hopeful that he was close to finding his cousin’s killer. Oh! I nearly forgot! These are for you.”

Reverend Fletcher took the bundle but offered not a word of thanks. Instead he plied his question.

“Was he? Close to an answer, you say?” Reverend Fletcher said, although his expression didn’t match the excitement in his voice.

Ginny blanched. Reverend Fletcher must know that his son was one of the prime suspects. He could hardly be excited to know that the inspector had found more proof to indict him. She shouldn’t have told him what she had. And she mustn’t tell him his sons were with the constabulary at this very moment being interviewed. It would be too painful for him to hear.

Ginny felt the need to leave. She didn’t want to talk about Lizzy’s murder with the father of the prime suspect in Lizzy’s death. Besides, it was getting dark and she wanted to get home before the sun was completely gone. “If you’ll excuse me, Reverend Fletcher, I really must be going.”

“Yes,” he answered. “It’s getting late. But I can’t allow you to walk home alone. It wouldn’t be safe. I’ll accompany you.”

Ginny smiled at his thoughtfulness. “That’s not necessary, Reverend. I’ll be fine.”

“Nonsense, Virginia. It would be my pleasure. Besides, I have a letter that needs posting, and the posting office is right on the way.”

“If you’re sure,” Ginny said.

“Of course. Of course. Give me your arm.”

When Reverend Fletcher extended his arm for her to take, she hesitated. For some reason she didn’t feel comfortable holding on to him. She didn’t feel safe.

She chided herself for feeling so foolish. This was Reverend Fletcher. The entire St. Dunstan’s congregation adored him. He was beloved by everyone who attended his services every Sunday.

Ginny mentally called herself every sort of fool then placed her hand on his arm and walked with him through the gate of the cemetery.

“I hope you don’t mind taking a different way home, Virginia. I always find going through the side entrance to the churchyard much more relaxing. I don’t know whether it’s the trees, or the small stream that runs nearby, or simply the quietness of the area, but I always enjoy going this way.”

Ginny didn’t find the way they took peaceful in the least. In fact, she was becoming more wary with each step they took. “I don’t believe I’ve ever been this way before,” she said. “I wasn’t even aware that there was a path behind the churchyard.”

“Yes, it’s seldom used, which makes it ideal. There are times when I prefer to be by myself, and this path provides me the isolation I desire.”

Ginny looked around. They were surrounded by a dense wooded area. What little sunlight there was in the sky was hidden by the thick grove of trees. An uneasy sense of concern settled over her and she looked around to find the nearest opening that would lead them to a clearing. But she couldn’t find one.

“Do we have much farther to go?” she asked the reverend.

A smile lifted the corners of Reverend Fletcher’s mouth. But the smile she saw didn’t calm her. The look on his face seemed sinister. And Ginny realized she was afraid.

“No, we’re almost there.”

Ginny tried to walk faster, but Reverend Fletcher wouldn’t allow her to increase her pace. She tried to lift her hand from his arm but he wouldn’t allow her to separate herself from him. She tried to escape his grasp, but he threw away the baked goods and grabbed her upper arms. With an angry push he pressed her back against a tree.

The rough bark ate through the material of her cloak and scratched her skin. Ginny knew she was in danger. She suddenly realized that Reverend Fletcher was the man who’d killed Elizabeth de Wolfe. And he intended to kill her, too.

“It was you. You killed her.”

The moment the words left her mouth, a sinister grin spread across Reverend Fletcher’s face. “Of course I killed her. I had to kill her. Just like I had to kill them all.”

“Why? Why did you have to kill them?”

“Because they were wicked. All of them. They were beautiful and they used their beauty to tempt men. Just like Bathsheba tempted David. Just like Elizabeth used her beauty to tempt Wesley.”

“They loved each other. They were going to marry.”

“No! I couldn’t allow it. She would have deceived Wesley just like Ralphy’s mother deceived me.”

“Did you kill her?”

A slow smile lifted the corners of Reverend Fletcher’s mouth. “She was the first. I had to kill her. She’d given me Ralphy. I had to make sure she couldn’t have more babies like him. He was my punishment for allowing the Bathshebas to continue deceiving us. Now it’s your turn.”

“No.”

“It saddens me, Virginia. But I’ll have to tell your sisters you went mad. As mad as your dear mother, God rest her soul. But you,” he growled, “you worked your feminine wiles and brought that de Wolfe fellow into my sanctuary. I can’t have that. No, that will not do at all.”

He twisted her hair, jerking her head cruelly back.

Ginny struggled to free herself from Reverend Fletcher’s grasp, but his fingers only tightened around her arms. She doubled her fists and struck him in the chest and belly, but her efforts were wasted on his superior strength. Finally, she was able to free one hand and raked her fingers down his face.

Reverend Fletcher pulled back his hand and slapped her hard.

Ginny screamed, then screamed again, but she knew her cries for help would go unanswered. The only chance she had of being heard was if someone happened to be in the cemetery. And that wasn’t likely. No one would be at the graveyard this close to dusk. No one ever was.

Unless she could overpower her assailant, she wouldn’t survive. Reverend Fletcher would kill her just like he’d killed Lizzy.

Ginny fought him with all her might. She kicked him and bit him and struggled to get free. She gathered all her strength and raked her fingers down his cheek one more time.

“You harlot! You whore!”

Ginny took pleasure in the blood that streamed down Fetcher’s cheek, but her relief was short lived. The blow he issued this time caused stars to appear behind her eyes. Her world seemed to shift and spin around her.

She screamed again and he struck her harder to silence her. Then he wrapped his fingers around her neck and squeezed.

Ginny fought him until her world went dark.