Who Wants to Live Forever? by Steve Wilson Read Free Book Online Page B

convinced, but it was obvious that Louise wasn’t going to change her lesson plan. Besides, Gail, Trish and I all seemed to relish the thought of another juicy tale to get involved with, so she was outnumbered four to one; Emma hadn’t said anything, so I wasn’t aware of her feelings on the matter. Whenever I looked at her, she seemed to continually glance across at Gail, before just as quickly looking away again.
    “Okay, then, let’s begin, shall we? This week’s unexplained death took place in Ormskirk on Friday March twenty-fourth 1922.”
    “Another Friday murder, then,” quipped Trish. “Must be somebody who had a really bad week at work!”
    “It is a Friday, but I assure you that not every case occurs on a Friday. Anyway, back to Ormskirk. The victim was Len Phillips, aged sixty-two. There is no doubt whatsoever that this was a murder, as he was viciously bludgeoned by a heavy object, most likely a hammer. What makes it strange, though, is that Len was a churchwarden at the Ormskirk Parish Church of St Peter and St Paul. Nobody had a single bad word to say against him, either before or after his death.
    “He was found lying in a pool of blood on the morning of March twenty-fourth, probably only a half-hour or so after it had happened. It was the church organist, a Miss Georgina Hastings, who discovered the body — she was a sixty-year-old spinster and you can imagine what a traumatic experience that would have been for her.
    “It seems that it took some considerable time before Miss Hastings had recovered enough to be able to answer the police’s questions. She had been to visit the church to remove the old flowers, as there was a wedding booked for the following morning — there was nothing unusual about that, as she had taken that role on for much of the previous couple of years. Ever since Len had been warden, in fact, as if she had a fondness for him.”
    “So are you saying she was the murderer?” asked Debbie, who now appeared to be fully interested in the case.
    “No, not for a second, Debbie. Miss Hastings was a very frail lady, and certainly wouldn’t have had the strength necessary to inflict such a series of wounds.”
    “So does that mean it had to be a man?” asked Trish.
    “That seemed the most likely interpretation of events, although a fit woman would surely have been able to wield the hammer in a manner in which the fatal blows could have been delivered. But a man seems the most likely culprit judging by the nature of the crime. But remember, not everything is always how it seems to be.”
    “Then are we to take it that a man was convicted yet you think it was a woman? Similar to last time?” I asked.
    “Well, the strange thing is, nobody was
ever
convicted of this crime, male or female, and as far as I am aware it remains an unsolved murder.”
    “So where exactly are we going with this?” asked Debbie. “I thought the reasoning behind these sessions was to look at miscarriages of justice rather than unsolved crimes.”
    “A crime can remain unsolved and still be a miscarriage of justice,” answered Louise. “A man or woman doesn’t have to be convicted to be judged guilty in the eyes of the public.”
    “It looks like we’re getting ahead of ourselves a little,” I said. “Perhaps we should allow Louise to finish telling us the tale before we start to ask questions.”
    “I don’t mind the interruptions,” said Louise. “In fact I welcome them, for it shows that I have engaged your interest. But in this case, I think Ethan is correct, and if I tell you about the other people involved it might make things a little clearer. There are, in fact, three other people to talk about. First, there is the Reverend Jeremy Greenhalgh, vicar of the parish. Then there is his curate, Godfrey Wimbush, and finally there is the other churchwarden, Bea Ashmere.
    “Although nobody had a bad word to say about Len Phillips, the same couldn’t be said about the Reverend Greenhalgh.