They were late departing because Richard had been insistent that they inform the Canterbury police of their recent encounters. Without that background, no one would think there could be anything suspicious in a frail, elderly man stumbling on an ancient stairway. And, indeed, there might not have been.They were passing flat, open fields when Elizabeth’s thoughts turned to the part she didn’t tell the police. It was all too vague even to put into words, and yet, she’d had a definite feeling . . .The great oak doors in Christchurch Gate had been closed when they returned to the cathedral precinct the night before. They rang the bell at the side door and showed their pass as Lodge guests. It was a lovely feeling with all the worshipers, tourists, and staff gone for the day. The precinct was spacious and yet cozy at the same time. And so secure. The gate was locked behind them. Only herself and Richard and their fellow pilgrims in the entire grounds.The sun was setting, sending a warm glow across the sky and striping the ground with long shadows.
