“Show me what things have been moved, if you please,” Phyllida said. She was completely ignoring Bradford, who stood aside with his arms folded over his chest, seemingly disinterested in their exchange.

Sure enough, when she and Rita left the priest’s office, Bradford followed. The maid led them into the sitting room, where Inspector Cork had done his interviews last night.

“The piecrust table is gone,” Phyllida said as soon as she entered the room. “It was sitting right next to the sofa.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Rita said, eyes wide with surprise. “It’s a different table there now, but the one that was there is gone. How did you know that?”

“I notice everything,” Phyllida replied, ignoring the snort from Bradford. Really, the man was abominably rude. “Where did this table come from, then?”

“It were over there by the window,” replied the maid. “I liked to keep flowers on it.”

The piecrust table that Mr. Genevan had admired had not been placed in front of the window, or in any other location. It was simply gone from the room.

“Is there anything else, Rita?” Phyllida asked.

“I haven’t looked through the whole rectory yet, ma’am. Only the kitchen and in here and in F-Father’s office.” Her eyes suddenly glistened and her lip quivered.

Phyllida forestalled another session of wailing and said, “Very well, then, you’ll need to go through the entire rectory and see if anything else has been moved or is missing. The inspector will want to know and so do I. Can you do that now, very quickly but thoroughly? And write everything down.”

“Yes, ma’am, yes, I can.”

“Very well, then, off with you,” Phyllida said when the maid hesitated.

As soon as Rita was gone, Bradford spoke. “Someone took an antique table.”

“Obviously,” Phyllida said. “But it wasn’t the murderer.”

He folded his arms across his chest again and arched one dark eyebrow so high it disappeared into the hair falling over his forehead. “Do explain, Mrs. Bright. I know you’re bursting to enlighten me.”

“There were any number of people in this room last night who might have noticed the piecrust table. One in particular must have realized its worth—I need not mention his name, as it is quite obvious to whom I refer—but he might not have been the only one who did. I suspect whoever it was decided the empty rectory, and the loss of its resident, would be the perfect opportunity to acquire the table. He or she assumed no one would notice it missing.”

“Right, then, Mrs. Bright. That’s so obvious even I could have deduced that.” That eyebrow was still anchored behind a lock of dark hair.