Dead Money (A Detective Inspector Paul Amos Lincolnshire Mystery) by Rodney Hobson

in sorrow than in anger. “They’re nearly all old and they act old even if they’re not but they think they are trendy singing a supposed hymn that doesn’t scan, let alone fit the supposed tune. Mrs Price can’t play the piano properly.
    “It’s bad enough with a proper accompaniment. You can’t imagine the discordant chaos without one.”
    Only now did Amos fully recognise the careworn look in the vicar’s face and the hunched shoulders that seemed to carry all the sins of the world upon them.
    “Come inside,” Thornley said resignedly as he took out his key and opened the front door. He stepped inside and then flattened himself as best he could for a man of middle-aged stomach dimensions to let the other two through.
     
    They completed the manoeuvre with some difficulty. Amos and Swift moved down the passageway while Thornley closed the front door. The officers were hesitating between two doors, one on the side of the passage and the other at the far end.
     
    “Through here,” said Thornley as he squeezed himself between the officers and a row of coats on a rack to reach the front of the line again. He opened the far door and led the way into a small kitchen-diner.
    “Then they will want a consoling prayer to end so they can all go home feeling warm and smug,” Thornley suddenly remarked bitterly.
     
    The vicar hastily gathered up various religious texts from a couple of chairs and dumped them onto the table. The three occupants of the room sat down on the newly freed kitchen chairs round the now encumbered table.
     
    “Sorry about the mess,” Thornley suddenly bumbled. Then, half rising, he added: “I'd better clear this up.”
     
    “Sit down, Mr Thornley,” Amos said politely but firmly. “We don't need the table. Tell us about Raymond Jones. Who did he know at church?”
     
    "Who didn't he know? Some were friends, some were business contacts. He must have been acquainted with just about everyone in the congregation to a greater or lesser extent."
     
    "How well did you know him?"
    "He was a parishioner and a regular churchgoer. He helped with various functions from time to time. I can't say he was a close friend, but he was steadfast and reliable. Those are rare virtues these days."
     
    "Did he know anyone in particular? Who did he talk to after the service?" Amos persisted. He was starting to get exasperated and it was beginning to show.
     
    "Well, he knew Sarah Miles, the organist," Thornley responded. "She was the one who found him, you know. Well yes, of course you know. She was always fussing round him.
     
    "They talked a lot - when they were on speaking terms, that is, which was about half the time. He used to go up to the organ after services and talk to her when he wasn't scurrying off to avoid her. They met occasionally for coffee or afternoon tea at a café in the town, I believe."
     
    Thornley had a sudden thought. "I don't believe there was any impropriety in their relationship. In fact, I'm sure there wasn't. Anyway, I don’t listen to idle gossip."
     "You seem to know an awful lot about their ..." Amos hesitated for half a second "... friendship."
    "I should do. I heard enough about it. On the days when Mr Jones was out of favour with Miss Miles she came to me. I heard all about it. At length."
     
    "It sounds like a very close relationship," suggested Amos with a slight emphasis on the word close. "Was it a romantic, albeit chaste, attachment?"
     
    "It was hardly romantic." The response came almost in an explosion. "Love-hate, maybe, but there was nothing romantic about it. Ray was hardly the romantic type and Sarah was well past the age of fairy tales.
    “I doubt if she'd ever been taken out by a man - not on a proper date. She was hardly likely to expect a Prince Charming to come riding over the hill on a white charger. "
     
    Now that it was too late to sally forth to save the souls of the local mothers, Thornley had time on his hands and he was gradually getting