‘I was thinking about the showmanship.’
‘Ouch! That’s a low blow. You’re right, of course. There’s no comparison. Shouldn’t have made such a profane remark. I’m backsliding in my old age.’
‘Well, I hope you have a licence for the handgun.’
‘Caught again. I don’t.’ Without warning, Conybeare opened the cabinet, grabbed the gun, pointed it at his own head and pulled the trigger. There was no report. A spring-loaded flag popped out with the word ‘BANG’ on it.
Diamond tried to look as if he’d fully expected it. ‘If only they were all like that. Do you give shows?’
‘If pressed. But you’re not here to see me perform.’ Conybeare gestured towards an armchair. ‘No need to check. It’s not a whoopee cushion. I don’t do practical jokes.’ But could he be believed? This was a playful clergyman.
From the chair Diamond tried to sound a serious note. ‘After Joe Rigden’s violent death in 2007, you were interviewed by the police.’
‘I was one of many, I believe.’
‘You knew him better than most. At any rate, your statement was longer than anyone else’s.’
‘That may well be true. I tend to go on a bit.’
‘He wasn’t your gardener, I understand.’
‘I couldn’t afford him. I have to do battle with my own little plot, and a battle it is. “One is nearer God’s heart in a garden...” doesn’t apply in my case. I’d rather be doing almost anything else.’
‘We understand each other, then. I’m no gardener either.’
‘Fortunately there’s nothing in the scriptures to say we should pull weeds.’ He smirked as if he’d just thought of something improper. ‘On the whole it would have been better if everyone in the Bible had avoided going into gardens. But you asked about Joe. I had a high regard for the man. His violent death was a mystery to us all. He led a good life, from all one could tell.’
‘How did you get to meet him?’
‘As a local volunteer. There are elderly folk in the village and they appreciate a helping hand with shopping, meals on wheels and so forth. Joe did it from the goodness of his heart. He was a lovely man. He didn’t share my faith, but I have to say he was kinder to others than many Christians I could name.’
‘What was his religion?’
‘He didn’t have one. He described himself as a realist. When someone says that to a clergyman it’s a bit of a slap in the face.’
‘But you still admired him?’
‘Couldn’t fail to. He was cheerful, honest, reliable, hardworking and mindful of others. He kept most of the Ten Commandments without having to think about them. It was only worshipping God he found impossible.’
‘There are plenty like him.’
‘Not like Joe. He lived by his principles.’
‘It sounds as if you got to know him well. Did he talk much?’
‘Not as much as me. We chatted, found our lives overlapped in other ways.’
‘Such as?’
‘I used to visit several of the properties where he was employed. Garden parties and the like. Being a retired rev, so to speak, I’m on several invitation lists. I was able to admire Joe’s handiwork, the stripes the mower made and the state of the flower beds. I’d make a point of complimenting him later.’
‘Wasn’t he there?’
‘At the garden parties? No, in village society, gardeners are classed with hewers of wood and drawers of water.’
‘How did he feel about that?’
‘He didn’t let it bother him. He was a teetotaller, anyway. Parties weren’t his scene at all. I suppose he was a throwback to an earlier generation when working men were supposed to know their place and get on with life. Thinking about it, we had that in common as well. For some folk, the clergy are below the salt.’
Diamond didn’t go down that avenue. ‘Did you ever discuss your beliefs with him?’
‘On a few occasions. Mostly we agreed to differ. I could tell it was no use trying to convert him.’
‘So was he an awkward cuss?’
After a pause, Conybeare said, ‘That’s rather cynical if I may say so.’
‘You’ll have to make allowance,’ Diamond said. ‘I’m trying hard to think why anyone murdered such a saintly man.’
‘It’s a mystery to me, too.’
‘Sometimes upright men antagonise others without meaning to.’
‘Sadly, that is true.’
‘You said he knew his place and got on with life. Was that because he felt inferior to the gentry, if I can call them that?’
‘You mean the upper crust of the village? Inferior? Certainly not. He’d laugh about their vanities, just as I do.’
‘But not to their faces?’
‘He didn’t go out of his way to be offensive.’
‘If pressed — say if one of them accused him of doing shoddy work — would he stand up for himself?’
‘Absolutely. He lived by his principles and defended them without fear or favour.’
‘Did he have friends?’
‘I’m not sure “friends” is the word I would use. People liked him, but he kept them at a distance. He wasn’t ever seen in the pub in the days we had one and he didn’t join things other than the volunteer group, who functioned mainly as individuals. You might think the horticultural society would have appealed, but Joe wasn’t a member.’
‘I expect he’d had enough of horticulture, doing it all day. Did he have a hobby, as you do?’
‘The magic?’ He laughed. ‘That’s peculiar to me and Joe thought it peculiar, too. In fact, he called it trickery. As a joke I once snapped my fingers and produced a bunch of flowers. Flowers for a gardener, get it? They’re a paper effect, packed very small, and spring open. He wasn’t at all amused. He threw them aside like a piece of waste. He liked his world to be solid and real.’
‘Both feet on the ground?’
‘Constantly. Well, he may have propped them up of an evening. He worked hard in the day and liked to relax quietly at home.’
‘I was reading your original statement and it seems you were one of the last to speak to him.’
‘Was I?’
Patiently, Diamond spelt out the facts. ‘Chichester police stopped a car on the Tuesday evening and found it contained Joe Rigden’s body and it was estimated he’d been shot some time in the previous twenty-four hours. He gave you a lift into Chichester, on Sunday, September twenty-third.’
‘He was always doing good turns like that.’
‘You attended morning service at the cathedral while he spent the time shopping. Do you still recall it?’
‘I do. An excellent sermon on the raising of the widow’s son.’
‘I meant the drive in the car, in particular what was said.’
‘Have a heart, superintendent. This was seven years ago.’
‘But you remember the sermon.’
‘It was the sixteenth Sunday after Trinity. The second lesson is always St Luke on the widow’s son. I’ve preached on it many times.’
Diamond was beginning to wish Georgina had taken over this interview. ‘You told DCI Mallin there was a difference of opinion in the car.’
‘That must be true, then. DCI Mallin — yes, a lady. I remember her questions and very sharp they were. She interviewed me here and gave me the cue to fire my trick gun, just as you did. Good at her job. Firm, but friendly.’
‘I’m asking about Joe Rigden.’
‘I appreciate that.’
‘What was this difference of opinion you had? It isn’t clear from the statement.’
His expression changed. ‘I’m sorry. It was a private conversation, of no conceivable relevance to your investigation. It did neither of us much credit and I prefer to remember Joe in a more positive light.’
‘I’m sorry too, but this was the last conversation he’s known for certain to have had with anyone. I need to know his state of mind.’