Maggie parked the unmarked police car outside Ian Spence's address. "What do you think, Julie?"

"A bit upmarket. Lovely front garden. Someone knows what they are doing. Why do you ask?"

The records show the vicar's home is on the church grounds. It's usually rent-free, so why live here? This must be his wife's home. I'd rent this and enjoy the extra income if it were mine. If I get the chance, I'll ask why. Julie, there's nothing wrong with how you dress, but keep your legs crossed when you sit. Can't have you embarrassing the vicar."

"I knew I should have worn trousers."

"Not at all. You look a million dollars. Come on, let's get this over with."

When Maggie pushed open the gate, the main door opened. A handsome man and an attractive woman filled the door frame.

"Sergeant Bell and Constable Oddman."

"Correct, sir." Maggie slipped her warrant card back into her bag.

"I must admit female police officers are changing."

"I'm not sure what you mean, sir."

"Maybe I've watched too many where the female sergeant appears masculine." He held out his right hand. "Ian Spence, and my wife Kathleen. Please come in."

He gestured for them to enter. The wide hallway contained several vases of flowers, their scent filling the air. Entering a door on their right, they found themselves in a large room with French windows overlooking the rear garden. Roses of every colour filled the borders of a pristine lawn. A large dark brown leather settee, two armchairs, and dark wood side tables filled the space.

"The armchairs are rather comfortable, please. You are here in connection with those women who have gone missing in the area. I assume you will be asking questions. Do you mind if my wife sits with us?"

"Vicar, you are not under suspicion or caution. Your wife is more than welcome."

Ian hesitated. "Tea or coffee?"

"Tea, please, no milk or sugar said Maggie.

"A black coffee for me, thank you," said Julie.

"I'll let Kathleen know, and then we can finish this. I knew every one of them on the list you gave me.

Julie leant back in the leather armchair and then remembered to cross her legs.

Kathleen entered carrying a tray with their drinks and a plate full of jam tarts. With the tray on the coffee table, she moved each cup and saucer to its appropriate position. Help yourself to the tarts. I make them myself."

"They are excellent," said Ian. "And I eat far too many."

Kathleen sat beside Ian and placed her left hand on his thigh.

Julie removed her notebook from her handbag. "I have a poor memory, so taking notes helps."

Ian smiled. "Please start, Sergeant Bell.

"Ian, may I call you Ian."

"Of course. It's so much less formal."

"You said you knew all the missing women. "Can you please explain?" She noted his nervous laugh.

They helped me in the running of the church. It was long ago when some of them left their villages."

Maggie shook her head. "How do you know they left?"

He paused for a moment. "I don't, I assumed. The police conducted extensive searches at the time. From what I remember, they discovered nothing of any interest or importance. Are you implying something might have happened to them?"

"No, we are going through the files and questioning those who knew them. April Thompson. What can you tell me about her?

Ian lifted his cup and sipped his tea. Mrs Thompson worked in the village post office. After she left, it closed. On Sundays, she distributed and collected the hymn books. Lovely ginger hair, if my memory still works. Her husband enjoyed a drink or two.

"Would you say you were friends?" asked Julie.

Ian shrugged. "She often confided in me In answer to your question. Yes, we were friends.

"So, you discussed personal things."

"We did, but if you check your files, you will find I have answered these questions before."

Maggie smiled. She wanted to hear the answers from the man himself. For her, his body language was as important as the words. But she was getting nothing."

"What can you remember about Joan Dickson?

Ian looked straight at her. "I'm a vicar, and part of my remit is to remember and help people. Mrs Dickason was a lovely but lonely woman. Her husband drove one of those big lorries with a trailer. Always spent a long time away from home. She arranged the flowers and was rather good at it.

Maggie processed each name while Julie took notes. "Ian, from our information, these women said they were visiting you before leaving home. The written reports from the police officers established you were at a prearranged meeting. Why would they use you as an excuse? Did they often visit during the week?

This triggered a smile from Ian. "Over the years, I have pondered this question myself. I kept my work journals in case someone like you asked the question. My whereabouts on those days were long-standing events in my calendar. They would never have known this, but then, nor would anyone else except my housekeeper. She needed to know my week's activities to enable her to plan the evening meals.

"Out of interest, why are you living here? I assume this is your wife's house. I wondered why when your parish house would be rent-free."

Ian leant forward. Have you seen the house next to my church? It's old cold, and not one window shuts as it should. Plus, I only have the top floor. My housekeeper lives on the ground floor. I don't know how you would feel, but it is not favourable for a married couple. I have my office and outfits there. Living here is chalk and cheese."

"My next question is my last, but it is rather sensitive. Rumour has it you were intimate with several of your parishioners."

Kathleen, seated opposite Maggie, shrugged. "Providing it was consensual, does it matter? No one in our faith says a vicar must be celibate."

Maggie stood, followed by Julie, who closed her notebook and tugged at the hem of her skirt. "Thank you for your time and the tea. Do you wish to know when and if we discover any new evidence or close the files?"

Ian and Kathleen glanced at each other. If you wouldn't mind," said Ian. "Where are you off to next?"

Julie and Maggie made their way to the hall.

"Back to the station."

Ian and Kathleen stood in the open doorway until Maggie drove away before closing the door.

Maggie turned to Julie. "Honest answer. Do you think he was shagging a few of his parishioners?"

"I'm sure he was, but does it matter?

"You're right. It doesn't matter."

***

A sergeant was at the main desk when Maggie and Julie entered. "Maggie, you have a visitor."

Maggie nodded. "Who is it?"

"An Inspector Hugh Talbot. He appeared pissed off when I told him you were busy. He said he needed to see you. Something about a case he was working on. I checked his warrant card and took him to the canteen. As far as I know, he's still there."

"Thanks. Is Chief Inspector Parsons in the building?"

"I haven't seen her leave. Give her a call." He pushed the desk telephone towards her.

Maggie, her hand shaking, pressed the buttons and prayed.

"Chief Inspector Parsons."

"Sorry to bother you, mam, but I need your advice."

"Advice is free. How can I help?"

"Inspector Hugh Talbot is in the canteen and wants to see me. What do I do?"

"The nerve of the guy. Where are you?"

"At the front desk."

"Wait there, and we will see him together."

Maggie went to say thank you, but Joyce had rung off.

"Do you want me to stay," asked Julie.

"Thanks, but no thanks. You can return to the office, and when the boss asks where I am, tell him I'm discussing an important matter with his wife. He'll know what I mean."

It seemed an age until Joyce appeared and they walked to the canteen.

Maggie saw Hugh Talbot seated at a table with a cup in his hand. She turned to Joyce, "Let me introduce you to Inspector Talbot, the heap of shit who raped me.

Talbot laughed. "Maggie, I do remember you were gagging for it.         You couldn't get your knickers off fast enough. I was happy to oblige."

"You're a bastard of the first order. What do you want?"

"For you to withdraw the civil court order. It will ruin your career in the force if you continue."

"Can you explain why, Inspector?"

"This has nothing to do with you, so fuck off."

"Is that my cue to get lost?" Joyce turned as if to leave. "A minor point inspector, but I outrank you, and you have two minutes to leave this station."

"Who the fuck are you to tell me what to do?"

"Chief Inspector Parsons, murder squad. You have one minute. Maggie, we have finished listening to this moron."

Talbot followed them to reception. "What a load of tossers."

Without raising her voice, Joyce turned to the desk sergeant. "Please take this Metropolitan officer's name, rank and number. I want him banned from entering this station again. Sergeant Bell, please follow me into my office."

With her office door closed, Joyce removed a mini tape and microphone from her skirt pocket and pressed play. Maggie smiled as she listened to Talbot's voice."

'Excuse me, mam, but you're a wily bastard."

"The Talbots of this world tend to hang themselves. "She held up the recorder. "This will come useful at his trial.