Bill Franks: Jesuit

Graham was glad to reach the end; the confession, excellent in content that it was, was disturbing. An intelligent and most unusual man who clearly did not see the wrong in what he had been doing.

“Well, Brother Saviour,” he said, “if that is all, we’ll return you to your cell and arrange a hearing for you tomorrow morning.”

As he went to switch off the tape, he was halted by the Jesuit’s next words: “But Detective Inspector, that is not all.”

For a few seconds, Graham remained half out of his seat. Not all? The words slowly sank into his head. He sat and faced Ignatious, again carefully avoiding direct eye contact. All other eyes were on the Jesuit.

“No. While you have been chasing me, I have relieved another soul.” He sat back in the wooden chair, perfectly at ease, as he had been throughout.

“Go on,” said Graham almost in a whisper.

The priest smiled benignly. “My work is never at an end,” he said. “Another poor soul who came across my path needed my guidance.”

“Can you name this person?”

“Yes. He told me he was Andrew Clements, a drifter who hailed from the Midlands, down here seeking work. His marriage had broken up some months ago and his wife had left the area with his two young children, whom he adored. He confessed to having been forced to thieve at times in order to live but he regarded himself to generally be a good person.”

What age would he be?”

“Said he was thirty-six.”

Graham sighed. “Okay, Brother, tell me what you can.”

The usual story unfolded; a lost soul, unhappy, desperate for solace and overcome by the Jesuit in whom he was willing to confide his innermost secrets. It was suggested that they meet again early the following morning and go to a spot close to nature. Clements had suggested Woburn Safari Park, a place he had planned anyway to visit while in this district, reasoning that you couldn’t get much closer to nature than with the wild beasts. Ignatious had thought the selection perfect and readily agreed.

It transpired that the couple had found a spot next to the fencing surrounding the park, out of sight of the main tourists, hidden by thick bushes, where Ignatious had listened, counselled and finally sent the man to Heaven, using the special poison discovered in the Amazon.

At the end, Graham asked: “Is that everything, now, Brother?”

“Yes. I have no more to say. You may now return me to my cell.”

The audacity of the man was amazing. It was as though he was speaking to servants.

Before leaving, Ignatious unnecessarily thanked his solicitor, as he had been no more than a spectator, but the thanks were sincere none-the-less. Two police officers escorted him, in handcuffs, back to the cells below.

With the tapes now switched off, the conversation was about the cool unruffled attitude of the accused priest and the wicked murders he had perpetrated. Even McArdle joined in, confessing that he had never represented, if that could be the right description, anyone so willing to admit to the crimes and be so unconcerned about them.

Later in the day, Graham and Clive returned to New Scotland Yard and began the task of collating all the evidence and putting it in order. This included transcripts of the recent interview. Besides the confession, solid evidence was now in hand and it was just a matter of how soon the case could be put to the Prosecutor and the CPS — The Crown Prosecution Service — for it all to be heard in court. The lab reports and the DNA evidence were expected within the next few days and then the emotionally taxing case could be brought to a conclusion.

In the meantime, a call had been put to the management at Woburn Safari Park informing them of the possibility of a body being near to the perimeter and warning them that a team of police and forensic officers were on their way to the park as they spoke. It was late afternoon when the report came back that, despite an extensive search, a body had not been found, nor any clues that anything untoward had taken place.

Clive arranged to meet Ignatious in his cell and hurried off to question him further. The Jesuit’s explanation that he had hidden the body just inside the fencing, where some of the animals roamed, irked Clive as it was given in a manner of mock surprise at having forgotten to mention the fact. He asked the priest if he would be able to remember the spot if taken to the park.

“Oh, yes, Sergeant,” he replied. “I don’t forget things like that. I’m sorry if I have caused you any inconvenience, it just slipped my mind.”

Clive did not accept the apology as genuine; he knew the priest was playing games with them. “We’ll arrange to take you there first

thing in the morning,” he said, “and you’ll be handcuffed and under heavy guard,” he added.

Getting back to Graham’s office, the pair discussed the new situation and calculated if there would be any possible chance of escape. They decided that, if the prisoner was ‘cuffed and properly guarded, it would be safe. It was considered that the animals could well find a dead body by its smell but, if that were the case, then an inspection tomorrow would be soon enough as the beasts would be caged at that time. Even if eaten, the likelihood would be that clothes and personal possession would remain — and the ever-present hummingbird feathers.

They decided to call it a day and to get an early night for the excitement of the following morning. Just how exciting that would be, could never have been imagined. Graham went straight home to Bethany that evening.

For the Sun to shine in Britain for five weeks in succession, coupled with temperatures up in the 70’s and 80’s, was tantamount to tropical climates. Already the tabloids were awash with such ‘expert’ forecasts as the country turning into a dust-bowl, with water becoming scarce and disease and pestilence ravaging the population. Palm trees sprouting up all over with exotic plants springing forth were also envisaged. Such was the novelty of weather that may seem normal in many other countries.

The saving of water had been encouraged since the third week and now hosepipe and garden sprinkler bans were in force throughout the land. The populace was advised to bathe in no more than six inches of water and married couples and partners were urged to take a bath together, ignoring the possible risk of a population explosion!

At six o’clock on this particular Tuesday morning, it was muggy, the air not having been able to cool from the intensity of the preceding weeks.

Getting up early offered no problem for Ignatious, nor did the sultry weather. His time in the Amazons had conditioned him well. He walked elegantly between two police officers, shackled to the one on his left by handcuffs. The one to his right was walking so close as to have his left arm snug into the back of Ignatious’s right arm.

As they walked into the yard from the cells, the low Sun bathed the priest’s face in a red glow, reflecting golden from his burnished skin. He raised his face to the life-giving planet and breathed in as though absorbing the rays into his lungs. The doors at the back of the van that awaited the party in the rear courtyard were wide open, revealing a posse of four prison officers, dressed in black, heavy looking trousers, black socks and highly polished boots, each sporting a bullet — proof vest. The only concession to the climate was that each sported a spotlessly clean, white shirt with short sleeves. However, a black tie was knotted in place, causing the wearer to experience a slight sensation of strangulation and ensuring fingers to be frequently digging into the collar to allow circulation of whatever air there was. To add to the officer’s discomfort, each was obliged to wear a protective helmet.