Page 31 of Murder at Hambledon Hall
The vicar stood so quickly that his glasses fell off. He caught them and replaced them. He blinked at Harry. “Oh. Hello. I’m sorry, I was just…” He indicated the floor without taking his gaze off Harry.
“Do you remember me, Reverend?” I asked. “Miss Fox. I was a guest at Hambledon Hall over the weekend.”
“Of course, I remember. Miss Fox, what a pleasure to see you again. Are you on your way to the Hall with your friend?”
“This is Mr. Harry Armitage,” I said, ignoring his question for the moment. “He’s a private detective.”
Reverend Pritchard’s face fell. “Private detective?”
Harry shook the vicar’s hand. “I’m trying to locate the man suspected of murdering the gamekeeper from Hambledon Hall.”
“Ohhh. I’m not sure how I can help. I know nothing about him.”
I was grateful Harry followed my lead and didn’t tell him I was also a private detective. Uncle Ronald wanted me to investigate discreetly. It was also a good idea to let everyone think Harry was looking for the missing poacher and not an alternative suspect. It would put people at ease, and hopefully that would lead them to lower their guard and divulge a clue.
“You were first to reach the body,” Harry said. “Did you see anyone in the vicinity just before the gunshot? Anyone at all, even if it wasn’t the missing poacher?”
The vicar pressed a finger to the bridge of his glasses. “How will that help you find him?”
“It helps me picture the scene. It’s simply a part of my process. It doesn’t mean anything more than that.”
Reverend Pritchard seemed to believe him and relaxed a little. “The first person I saw was the already deceased Mr. Shepherd, then Miss Fox arrived. She emerged from the woods. If anyone saw someone, it would be her. The shot came from that direction.”
“Are you sure?”
“It must have. The poacher would hardly be in the house.”
“Did you see the moment Mr. Shepherd was struck by the bullet?”
“No. He was already on the ground when I came upon him.”
“Did you hear anything? Voices, rustling leaves, footsteps perhaps?”
The vicar shook his head. “I didn’t even hear Miss Fox approach. I’m afraid I’m a dreadful witness, Mr. Armitage. I am sorry.”
Harry rushed to reassure him. “It’s quite common not to notice the small details. It must have been traumatic for you to see one of your parishioners moments after he died.”
“Mr. Shepherd wasn’t a parishioner, as such. He never came to church. Actually, that’s not entirely true. He came once, but not for the Sunday service. But yes, it was a shock seeing him lying there. I haven’t been able to get the image of his face out of my mind since.”
“You look pale, Reverend. Would you like to sit down?” Harry indicated the nearest pew.
The vicar gave a self-conscious laugh. “I assure you, I’m stronger than I look.”
Harry seemed to have finished with his questions, but I felt as though we could learn more from the vicar. It would be a shame to take over from Harry, though. He had Reverend Pritchard’s full attention and seemed to have his trust, too. My intrusion might risk what he’d gained. But Harry asked no more questions, so it was up to me.
“What do you think of Lord Kershaw and his family?”
Reverend Pritchard looked from Harry to me and back again. When Harry gave an encouraging nod, he finally answered. “Both Lord and Lady Kershaw are very kind, and Lady Elizabeth, too. Indeed, I’ve had more to do with his lordship’s aunt than his wife. She never misses a parish council meeting.”
“And the Brownings? How well do you know them?”
Again, he glanced at Harry before answering. “I don’t, really. I’ve met them from time to time at the house, but they’ve never been to one of my services. I presume they attend church where they live.”
“Do you know the Hambledon Hall servants?”
He bristled. “I’m a little familiar with those who attend Sunday service. Some don’t, and I’m not sure why his lordship doesn’t force them. I wouldn’t want an ungodly person working for me, but that’s my opinion.” He looked as though he was going to say more, but stopped himself. “Miss Fox, why are you here?”
“I, uh…”
