“Of course not. I will spend my time looking for Rita. I cannot imagine where she’s gotten to. Perhaps in the church, praying. She did say something about lighting a candle for Father Tooley. Or perhaps she rode back with someone else. I’ll call back to the house from inside the rectory and ask Mr. Dobble.”

Bradford hesitated one last time, then, to her surprise, he fished something out of the motorcar and handed it to her.

“What on earth—” She stared at the pocketknife. It appeared heavy, and as large as her hand when folded.

“Just in case,” he said enigmatically, pressing it into her hand. “And take this as well.” He pulled a torch from his pocket.

“Very well,” she replied, closing her fingers around the knife and the light. They could come in handy, she supposed—especially since she was finally going to have the chance to do a thorough search inside the rectory for the contest information. A knife tip could be quite useful in opening a lock; perhaps Father Tooley had secreted the information in a strongbox.

“Stay here in the light,” Bradford said.

“I shall be quite fine,” she said firmly. “Now the sooner you go off, the sooner you can be back.”

He nodded, then climbed into the motor. Phyllida could see that Molly was already asleep, leaning against the window in the front. Stanley and Elton were crammed in the back with several boxes.

“You’re not coming, Mrs. Bright?” said Elton, poking his head out the window.

“There’s no room in the motor, and I want to find out where Rita has gone off to.”

“I can stay with you,” said Elton, opening the motorcar door. One of his feet appeared on the ground. “You shouldn’t stay here alone.”

“That’s not necessary,” Phyllida said firmly, wondering what was wrong with all of these people who thought she couldn’t take care of herself.

Even if there was a chance that the murderer might be lurking about, thus far all he or she had done was poison food and cut brake lines—as she had pointed out to Mr. Whittlesby. And as Phyllida had no intention of eating or driving, she felt no worry over her safety.

“Now go off with you,” she said. “I should like to return before midnight tonight.”

Elton hesitated, but Bradford murmured something to him that sounded suspiciously like “addled” and “goat,” then started the motor.

No sooner had the Daimler cruised off than Phyllida left the pool of light from the streetlamp and went into the church.