“Because he wasn’t! I don’t care what they say. You don’t knock a man down for such a pitiful sum, then leave behind a medal around his neck worth more than fifty pounds. If you’d kill a priest, you’d feel no compunction stealing his medal. In my opinion, this was vengeance. Someone wanted him dead!”

It was an interesting choice of words. Rutledge said, “What had Father James done to bring such wrath down on him?”

“That’s what you must find out,” she told him earnestly. “I’ve been Father James’s housekeeper since first he came here to Osterley, and that’s been well over ten years now. He was a good man and a wonderful priest. A caring priest. And good people make enemies.” She turned her head to look over her shoulder, toward the door and the stairs, as if expecting someone to come down them and call to her. “I don’t think I’ll ever be free of that horror, him lying there in his own blood, his hand so cold when I touched it that I cried out for the pity of it.” Her eyes came back to Rutledge. “A monster did that killing, retribution for Father James standing up against cruelty and evil and sin. Mark my words, that’s what you’ll find if you search hard enough!”

Hamish said, “She believes what she said, and she willna’ be satisfied with any other solution.”

Rutledge answered him silently. “She must have loved him, in her own way. And anything less than a monster will make Father James’s death seem—senseless—to her.” Aloud he said to Mrs. Wainer, “Did you know the money was here? The money from the autumn fair?”

“Of course I did! Father James gave it to me that evening when the fair was over, and said, ‘Lock this away in my desk, will you, Ruth? I’ll give you the key, and fetch it again as soon as I’ve cleaned up.’ He’d been dressed as a clown, to entertain the children, you see, and the paint was still on his face.”

“Did you usually lock money away for him?”

“I did whatever he asked. He trusted me,” she said simply.

“Was the desk broken into? To find the money?”

“Yes, it was, damaging the drawer something fierce! But there’s only a small lock on the drawer, a flimsy thing at best. It was secure enough from prying eyes, if anyone came into the room. Hardly more than that—and we never had a ha’penny stolen until now! There was no need for safes and bolts on doors. I have told you, he trusted people, Father James did. It wouldn’t have occurred to him that this house might be invaded the way it was!”