‘I feel quite sick,’ she said.
‘Now,’ said Sidney, ‘Mr Thompson, can you please drop the bottle of champagne?’
‘I found some rather uninspiring sparkling wine,’ said Nigel. ‘I am sorry about the waste but I think I might as well repeat the whole blasted thing.’
As he did so his wife gave a shriek and dropped the ring, Johnny Johnson pushed his chair back and brushed the sparkling wine off his trousers with a cry of ‘twice in one week’.
‘Continue,’ Sidney ordered.
Amanda removed Juliette from the room while Daphne fetched a dishcloth and Mary Dowland a dustpan and brush.
After the mess had been cleared up for a second time, the ring from Woolworths remained by Juliette Thompson’s place.
‘You can hardly expect someone to steal it this time,’ said Mark Dowland.
‘Please go on,’ Sidney insisted. ‘Let us repeat our search.’
The guests walked round the room, looking across and under the table.
The maid rang the doorbell. Sidney explained. ‘Miss Young, I think you said your goodbye at this point.’
‘I certainly did.’ Daphne Young opened her bag and emptied its contents on to the dining-room table once more: the same compact, perfume, handkerchief, set of keys, diary, address book and small purse fell out. She scattered her change across the table. ‘Here we go round the mulberry bush,’ she said.
‘Amazing,’ said Johnny Johnson. ‘That’s exactly as you did it before.’
Mary Dowland appeared beside him. ‘Then I came up beside you, I think.’
‘And Mr Hopkins went through the bag,’ Sidney explained. ‘Will you do so once more?’
‘It’s a bit pointless, isn’t it?’
‘On the contrary,’ Sidney said quietly. ‘Miss Young, I think you returned to your place and picked up your stole?’
‘I did.’
‘And then you said your farewells.’
‘That is correct. May I go now?’
‘Not quite,’ Sidney explained. ‘We need to continue, if you would not mind waiting. Mr Hopkins must give you your handbag . . .’
‘Thank you.’
‘And then the Dowlands leave quite shortly. As, of course, do I. So we will just re-enact these movements and then, instead of leaving, we will return to our places.’
‘I can’t see how that has done any good at all,’ said Mark Dowland when the domestic ballet had been completed.
‘On the contrary,’ said Sidney, ‘you have shown me a great deal. And now, I have something unexpected.’
‘I don’t like surprises,’ said Juliette Thompson, returning to her seat. ‘They make me afraid.’
‘But this is, I think, a pleasant one,’ said Sidney. ‘You will see that the ring from Woolworths has disappeared.’
‘Where is it?’ Guy Hopkins exclaimed.
Sidney reached under the table in front of him. ‘Instead, I have something else.
Quae amissa salva
. What was lost is safe.’ He placed Amanda Kendall’s original engagement ring in front of him.
‘Where did you get that?’ asked Daphne Young.
‘Your lodger very kindly retrieved it from The Lanes in Brighton.’
‘He is not a “lodger”. He is a “paying guest”.’
Sidney ignored the distinction. ‘In Brighton, there is a second-hand jewellery store, next to some shared accommodation for distressed gentlefolk. Living there is a rather confused gentleman called Hector Young, formerly of the jewellers Braithwaite and Young.’
‘You cad.’
Sidney began. ‘The ring was reclaimed from your father, Miss Young. How it came into his possession is a matter for conjecture, but my colleague received a rather full explanation.’
‘You sent a priest under false pretences knowing that my father was confused?’
‘On the contrary, his mission was perfectly straightforward. I sent him under clear instructions to talk to your father and recoup the ring. You often take jewellery down to Brighton, I believe . . .’
‘There is nothing wrong with that.’
‘Most has been secured on approval so that it can be returned. Some former colleagues also help . . .’
Daphne Young looked down into her lap. ‘It is the only thing that keeps him in his right mind. He remembers the treasures he has lost. Sometimes he believes he still has his shop.’
‘I am sure he does, Miss Young.’
‘He lost everything.’
‘How?’ Juliette asked.
‘He used to rent out things on deposit so that women could make a bit of a splash of an evening and then return the jewellery the next morning. Unfortunately, he . . . he . . .’
Sidney quietly finished her sentence. ‘Gambled.’
Daphne was pulling at the handkerchief in her hands. ‘He thought he could escape his debts and give his clients a little bit of the proceeds. He went to Epsom and Goodwood and put the biggest bets on the handicaps. He liked to think he could always spot an underrated horse but he was wrong. He didn’t mean to lose so he borrowed in order to pay his customers back. He thought it would all come right in the end. Then he started going to the pawnbrokers with some of the stock and without telling his business partner. Now half his mind has gone . . .’
‘You were being a dutiful daughter,’ said Sidney.
‘The jewellery I show him takes him back to the early thirties when I was a little girl and my mother was alive. The shop was a success then. So I’ve been trying to keep him living there, in the memory of that time, so that he can die with more contentment than he would if he was aware of the world today.’
Mary was unsympathetic. ‘So are you trying to tell us that you stole the ring for charitable purposes?’
‘I took it without thinking. It was right in front of me.’ Daphne looked at Juliette. ‘It was there. I couldn’t help it.’
‘My God,’ Nigel exclaimed. ‘You stole the ring in the house of one of your best friends. Are you aware of the effect this has had on Juliette?’
‘It was her or my father. I made a choice.’
Johnny interrupted. ‘How did you do it, Daphne?’
‘I am sure Canon Chambers can explain.’
Sidney began. ‘It did look as if you were the criminal, Mr Johnson. Miss Young was aware of your father’s history and could feel quite confident that you would be blamed; she even tried to do this herself. Then, if that didn’t work, there was always Mrs Thompson.’
‘But she has never stolen anything,’ Mary Dowland cut in.
‘No,’ Sidney lied. This was not the time for further revelation. ‘But she was upset and distracted and it would be a simple matter to make her think she had taken the ring even when she had not.’
Juliette Thompson looked at Sidney. ‘So I was right? I never had the ring?’
‘It was taken from your place. For the criminal to act in such a way when there were two ready suspects was tempting . . .’
Daphne cut in. ‘I am not a criminal. I didn’t think of it like that.’
‘It must have been when Nigel dropped the champagne,’ said Johnny. ‘Daphne was picking up bits of broken glass . . .’
‘Miss Young, to you.’
‘But I would have seen her,’ said Mary Dowland. ‘I had the dustpan and brush.’
‘But,’ Sidney explained, ‘Miss Young had the dishcloth. It was a simple matter to wipe away the ring at the same time as she mopped the table. If anyone noticed she could easily explain her behaviour as absent-mindedness and put it back. But if no one spotted her . . .’
‘But how could she hide the thing?’ Johnny Johnson asked. ‘She emptied her bag on to the table and opened her purse. There was nothing in it.’
‘That was something of a masterstroke. To conceal the ring in an item that had already been searched and then to walk calmly away . . .’
‘But how?’ Amanda asked.
Sidney began to walk round the table. ‘The idea came to me when I was searching the room myself. It was the first time that I have been permitted to be on my own in this house and I was able to think the matter over without distraction. Then I remembered one of my friend Inspector Keating’s first questions. “Did you look under the table?” ’
‘Of course we did,’ answered Nigel.
‘I don’t think you understand. When I say “under the table” I mean something slightly different. Miss Kendall, and Mr Johnson, I would like you to think about your positions at dinner.’
‘I was sitting next to the host and Johnny was next to the hostess,’ Amanda answered.
‘My God,’ said Johnny Johnson, ‘I think you have got it.’
‘You are also sitting, as is Miss Young, at the ridge of the table, where it extends. Of course, this is not noticeable with a tablecloth, but it is common enough. At Miss Young’s place there is a slight scratch mark in the ridge where she hid the ring.’
‘You mean it was wedged in the ridge underneath the table?’ asked Nigel
‘Exactly so. And then removed when Miss Young went to fetch her stole. We, of course, were all distracted by the contents of her handbag. The action would have required only the simplest sleight of hand.’
Daphne Young rose from her seat. ‘Very good, Canon Chambers. We can all applaud your persistence. If only you had demonstrated the same level of dedication to the priesthood. I presume you have summoned the police.’
‘As a matter of fact, I have not. I think it is for Miss Kendall to decide. It is her ring.’
Guy Hopkins cut in. ‘I rather think it is mine.’
‘You gave it to me,’ Amanda Kendall replied.
‘But you have turned me down. I think a return is customary.’
One thing Sidney had not expected was the aftermath of his revelation. Daphne Young took advantage of the hiatus and walked to the door. ‘I shall leave you all to it. I am expected at the opera. You have my address.’
‘Daphne,’ Nigel Thompson announced before she left. ‘You will never be welcome in this house again.’
His former guest replied without emotion, ‘I have no excuse.’
The assembled company listened to her footsteps recede in the hall and the front door open and close. They even heard her sharp whistle for a taxi. ‘What an extraordinary woman,’ said Mary Dowland. ‘She never even apologised.’
‘I can’t stop thinking about her father,’ said Johnny. ‘I can’t imagine that was the first time. She must have stolen before.’
‘I’m not so sure,’ said Sidney.
Mark Dowland offered another explanation. ‘Perhaps she thought she deserved it more than Amanda. A better cause . . .’
‘I’ve always thought she was a bitch,’ said Guy.
‘Your thoughts on women are a disgrace,’ Amanda replied. It was the first time she had looked at him properly all evening. The ring was still in front of her. She looked at Sidney. ‘What shall I do with it now?’ she asked.
In 1954, Valentine’s Day, which was also Sidney’s birthday, fell on a Sunday. He was thirty-three years old. Because he was unable to leave his pastoral duties, his sister Jennifer brought Amanda up to Grantchester to mark the occasion. They came with cards from the rest of the family and a chocolate cake that they had made themselves. The celebration was to consist of a trip along the River Cam and a winter picnic.
It was a crisp but bright winter day and Jennifer and Amanda were sitting in the front of the punt with rugs over their knees and a hamper in front of them. It contained two flasks of milky tea laced with a little brandy; ham and mustard sandwiches; a selection of dainties from Fitzbillies; and the chocolate birthday cake with a candle which they would light at dusk.
Sidney was punting in his clerical cloak and he wore a wide-brimmed hat that made him look like a nineteenth-century eccentric. This was paradise, he thought: to be free of the cares of the world with his adorable sister and her beautiful best friend on his birthday. They would spend an hour or two chatting away and then the girls would return to London and Sidney would take Evensong and allow himself time to contemplate his blessings.
‘I have never known anything so unusual as a winter picnic on the river,’ said Amanda, ‘and I am enjoying it immensely. Where shall we moor?’
‘Just a little upstream,’ said Sidney. ‘Past Byron’s Pool. I know a spot.’
He dropped the pole into the water, pushed down, and then as he let the punt move away he began to recite: ‘Let us have wine and women, mirth and laughter, Sermons and soda-water the day after.’
‘Oh Byron,’ said Amanda. ‘My favourite poet. “Here’s a sigh to those who love me, And a smile to those who hate; And whatever sky’s above me, Here’s a heart for every fate.” ’
Sidney smiled. ‘I’m so glad that you seem to have recovered from all that sorry business on New Year’s Eve.’
‘Such a pity we couldn’t pin the whole business of the ring on Guy,’ Amanda replied. ‘I’d enjoy his fury at going to prison.’
‘That’s not very charitable.’
‘We’ve been generous enough with everyone else.’
‘You decided to let Daphne off?’ Sidney asked.
‘It would have finished her . . .’ Jennifer answered. ‘And Nigel was keen to avoid a scene.’
‘And so a crime has been ignored? That was very forgiving of you.’
‘We just have to trust she won’t ever do it again.’