Ellie Harrison stood in the entrance lobby of The Old Chapel and stared at the large wooden crucifix. Yesterday she"d rehung it onto its large and secure hook. A hook that held it firmly in place, and yet had somehow it had managed to come off that hook and land back on the floor. She’d wager that if she’d traced a line around the large crucifix yesterday, a little like American detectives drew round bodies in those old murder mystery shows, then geometrically it would be in the same spot now, and not a fraction out of place. She stared at it for a few drawn out seconds, consumed by the morning silence that hung like an invisible blanket in the building, her mind racing at the possibilities of what it could mean. Deep down she knew what it meant, someone or something had moved it, possibly
