Dashing London banker Mark Treasure (Treasure in Roubles, Divided Treasure, etc.) and actress-wife Molly respond to his client, aged Monica Lodey, and her pleas to prevent the closing of St Marlin's (built by her family years ago) with q pledge of funds and a cursory look al the church's prospects: demolition and then conversion lo tony flats; or headquarters for all American-based Evangelical group eager to conquer the Brits. Then the vicar's wife, who began the movement to save St. Martin's, is killed by a wedge of crumbling slate--and the matter turns from real estate to murder. The alibis are all contradictory, with Brother Jethro's minion a possibility, ditto Mr. Frakraj (grocer and church-organist, who stood to make a packet if the laird were sold); the vicar himself (his wife was leaving him; there's another woman): and several members of the congregation, including one anxious to frame Mr. Frakraj, who accidentally saw her bury some evidence. In typical, tidy, Treasure fashion, Mark sifts through the clues, red herrings, and alibis, to stage a cemetery confrontation--which ends, months later, in acquittal. A bit of a slog, though Williams has fun with his aw-shucks, cowboy churchman and the upward and downward mobility of neighborhoods, immigrants and do-gooders. But dullish compared to the author's others, with an atypically forced wrap-up.