A Prayer for the Dying (v5) Read Online Free PDF Page A

skulls, imagination running riot.
    Scaffolding lifted in a spider's web to support the nave at the altar end and it was very dark except for the sanctuary lamp and candles flickering before the Virgin.
    The girl was seated at the organ behind the choir stalls. She started to play softly. Just a few tentative chords at first and then, as Fallon started to walk down the centre aisle, she moved into the opening of the Bach Prelude and Fugue in D Major.
    And she was good. He stood at the bottom of the steps, listening, then started up. She stopped at once and swung round.
    'Is anyone there?'
    'I'm sorry if I disturbed you,' he told her. 'I was enjoying listening.'
    There was that slight, uncertain smile on her face again. She seemed to be waiting, so he carried on. 'If I might make a suggestion?'
    'You play the organ?'
    'Used to. Look, that trumpet stop is a reed. Unreliable at the best of times, but in a damp atmosphere like this -' he shrugged. 'It's so badly out of tune it's putting everything else out. I'd leave it in if I were you.'
    'Why, thank you,' she said. 'I'll try that.'
    She turned back to the organ and Fallon went down the steps to the rear of the church and sat in a pew in the darkest corner he could find.
    She played the Prelude and Fugue right through and he sat there, eyes closed, arms folded. And his original judgement still stood. She was good - certainly worth listening to.
    When she finished after half an hour or so, she gathered up her things and came down the steps. She paused at the bottom and waited, perhaps sensing that he was still there, but he made no sign and after a moment, she went into the sacristy.
    And in the darkness at the back of the church, Fallon sat waiting.

3
    Miller
    Father da Costa was just finishing his second cup of tea in the cemetery superintendent's office when there was a knock at the door and a young police constable came in.
    'Sorry to bother you again, Father, but Mr Miller would like a word with you.'
    Father da Costa stood up. 'Mr Miller?' he said.
    'Detective-Superintendent Miller, sir. He's head of the CID.'
    It was still raining heavily when they went outside. The forecourt was crammed with police vehicles and as they walked along the narrow path, there seemed to be police everywhere, moving through the rhododendron bushes.
    The body was exactly where he had left it although it was now partially covered with a groundsheet. A man in an overcoat knelt on one knee beside it making some sort of preliminary examination. He was speaking in a low voice into a portable dictaphone and what looked like a doctor's bag was open on the ground beside him.
    There were police here everywhere, too, in uniform and out. Several of them were taking careful measurements with tapes. The others were searching the ground area.
    The young detective-inspector who had his statement, was called Fitzgerald. He was standing to one side, talking to a tall, thin, rather scholarly-looking man in a belted raincoat. When he saw da Costa, he came across at once.
    'There you are, Father. This is Detective-Superintendent Miller.'
    Miller shook hands. He had a thin face and patient brown eyes. Just now he looked very tired.
    He said, 'A bad business, Father.'
    'It is indeed,' da Costa said.
    'As you can see, we're going through the usual motions and Professor Lawlor here is making a preliminary report. He'll do an autopsy this afternoon. On the other hand, because of the way it happened you're obviously the key to the whole affair. If I might ask you a few more questions?'
    'Anything I can do, of course, but I can assure you that Inspector Fitzgerald was most efficient. I don't think there can be anything he overlooked.'
    Fitzgerald looked suitably modest and Miller smiled. 'Father, I've been a policeman for nearly twenty-five years and if I've learned one thing, it's that there's always something and it's usually that something which wins cases.'
    Professor Lawlor stood up. 'I've finished here, Nick,' he