‘Sadly no, Detective Walker,’ he said. ‘You need to come to the rectory right away. I’ve received another card and you are not going to like what’s written inside.’

CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

James arrived at the rectory fifteen minutes later in DC Abbott’s Fiat after a quick drive through the snow-covered streets of the village.

Father Silver was waiting for them at the door, a mournful expression on his face. ‘I can’t believe it’s happened again. Why am I being singled out like this?’

‘You’re not, Father,’ James told him. ‘You’re just one of an unfortunate group of people on the killer’s mailing list. Now where is the latest card?

‘Follow me.’

James had never been inside the rectory and was struck by how cluttered it was. There was an over-abundance of furniture and most of it was old and large – from the floor-to-ceiling bookcase in the hallway to the table that was far too big for the modestly sized kitchen.

The card was on the table, the distinctive Twelve Days of Christmas image facing them as they entered.

‘I’ve been careful only to touch it at the edges,’ Father Silver said. ‘And I’ve also kept the envelope.’

James put on latex gloves before he picked it up. DC Abbott peered over his shoulder as he read the message inside, which once again had been scrawled in black marker.

I want you to know that I’ve taken the life of another sinner, Father. Someone else who did the work of the devil. Someone who brought shame on our tiny community and therefore deserved to die.

Merry Christmas once again.

James and Abbott exchanged a look and it was the DC who put into words what they were both thinking.

‘This must mean there was another murder last night,’ she said, with a tremor in her voice. ‘We just haven’t heard about it yet.’

James felt his heart sink into his boots. ‘That’s probably because it’s still early and not many people have ventured out.’

‘Then we need to mount a search, guv. The snow won’t make things easy for us, though.’

James took an evidence bag from his pocket and put the card and envelope into it.

Then he turned to the priest. ‘You told me it was put through your letter box. Have you any idea when that would have been?’

‘I went to bed at ten o’clock last night,’ Father Silver said. ‘I didn’t know it was there until I came downstairs this morning to have breakfast before going to the church.’

‘And you didn’t hear or see anyone outside during the night?’

He shook his head. ‘I’m a heavy sleeper, Detective Walker. It takes a lot to wake me once I’m in bed.’

‘And have you given any thought to who might be responsible? I know it sounds like a silly question, but I have to ask it.’

‘Well, the answer is yes, I have given it a great deal of thought, but for the life of me I can’t think of anyone I know who would commit such heinous crimes. And that makes it all the more disturbing because the clear impression I get from those messages is that the person who wrote them knows me.’