“Do you remember what time it arrived?” Phyllida pressed, watching Bradford from out of the corner of her eye. He’d moved on from perusing the papers on Father Tooley’s desk to digging through the trash receptacle on the floor next to it.

“It were before half ten, Mrs. Bright.”

“Here’s the note and the cake box,” Bradford said suddenly, withdrawing said objects from the waste can. “I suppose I’d best save them for Inspector Cork, as you’re not doing any investigating, eh, Mrs. Bright?” Despite his provoking words, he placed the items on the desk within easy reach of where she stood.

Phyllida lifted her nose and looked down at him—which was difficult as he was standing and he was quite a bit taller than she. But she was certain he got the message. Without a word, she picked up the note and the cake box and began to examine them.

The enclosure was written in simple block letters on a piece of white card. It said almost exactly what Rita had recalled: COMPLIMENTS OF THE DETECTION CLUB, WITH IT’S GRATITUDE.

She frowned at the apostrophe, then sniffed the card. She smelled only confection, and noted that it was the sort of stock readily obtained or already on hand in most households. The ink was an unassuming black, and there were no smudges or signs of hesitancy in the writing.

Turning her attention to the box, she noted that Father Tooley seemed to have been in a hurry to reveal its contents, for the top was torn as if the opener had been impatient in unfolding its cardboard tabs. It was the same sort of box she’d seen any number of times, for she often ordered extra pastries from Panson’s. It was definitely one of their boxes for it had a large P stamped on the top.

But when Phyllida examined the inside of the box, she noticed a small crumb wedged deep in the corner. Further careful investigation revealed that it was not a bit of dried icing or white sponge, but a bit of nut. Walnut, to be precise.

As there were no nuts on or in the cake, Phyllida came to the obvious conclusion: the box had previously been used, and therefore the cake had not been placed inside it by someone at Panson’s.

Not that she had thought it had.

Bradford, who’d wrapped up Saint Aloysius in a tablecloth and removed the swaddled corpse, reappeared at that moment. She noticed he had to duck slightly to get through the doorway.

“This box has been previously used,” Phyllida told him. “The perpetrator must have ordered something from Panson’s and saved the box, then prepared the cake and put it inside. The question is, how did he or she get the box added to the delivery lorry?”