Линда Ла Плант - Unholy Murder

The man forced a smile. ‘Yes, the apartments are expensive.’

‘Thanks for your help, sir. Can you give us directions to the building site?’ Jane asked.

‘The temporary road leading up to it will be very muddy and you might well get stuck. It would be quicker to walk through our rear communal gardens. Please follow me.’ He wiped his wellingtons on the outside doormat, then unlocked the front door.

Boon was about to step inside, when Jane whispered to him to wipe his feet on the mat. Inside there was another large doormat which the man also used, before picking up a neatly folded towel from the floor and wiping the dog down with it.

The hallway was large with a beige marble floor and a stunning Gothic-style dark oak L-shaped staircase. Halfway up the stairs to the upper floor was a pictorial stained-glass window, the centrepiece of which depicted the virgin Mary, Joseph and baby Jesus in the stable at Bethlehem.

‘Excuse me for a moment while I put Bella inside.’ The man went over to a large arched wooden door in the right-hand corner, opened it and went inside.

Jane took Boon to one side. ‘You shouldn’t have mentioned the coffin. The residents might start worrying about dead bodies in their back garden.’

‘Sorry, sarge, but they’re going to find out sooner or later, aren’t they?’

Jane was about to reply when the man returned carrying a large umbrella. ‘Sorry, I’ve only got the one, but it’s better than nothing.’

‘Thank you,’ Jane said, taking it from him.

The man then led them to a rear entrance off the hallway where he opened the door. Outside was a vast garden with high walls and Gothic-style arches.

‘Blimey, the back garden is massive,’ Boon remarked.

‘It’s the same as it was when the nuns tended it, though we did have to do quite a bit of work to restore it to its original splendour. All the residents chip in and help maintain it. It’s absolutely stunning in the summer,’ he said proudly. ‘Follow the gravel path towards the far end and go through an arch midway on your right into the herb garden. You’ll see another arch on your far left which leads to the building site. I’ll leave the back door open, but I’d be grateful if you could slip the latch back on and leave the umbrella outside my door when you leave.’

‘It’s like stepping back in time,’ Jane remarked as they walked, the gravel crunching under their feet. ‘The nuns who lived here must have led a very peaceful life.’

‘Bit like working at Bromley nick, then,’ Boon grinned. ‘You’ve worked at some real busy stations, and the Flying Squad, so what made you want to come to Bromley?’

‘I bought a house in Chislehurst a few months ago,’ Jane said. ‘Travelling uptown to Gerald Road nick by train was getting expensive.’

‘That’s the problem living south of the river,’ Boon agreed. ‘There’s no tube trains for us to use our warrant cards on for free travel into Central London. Did you not fancy working somewhere like Lewisham? That’s a busy South London nick.’

‘Not really,’ Jane said. ‘I wanted a quieter posting so I can study for next year’s inspectors’ exam.’

Boon grinned. ‘You’ll get plenty of time to do that at Bromley.’

They followed the man’s directions to a large expanse of land with a wood and small lake in the distance. To their right were six burnt-out buildings, one of which had a rusty old school bell precariously hanging from an arched recess in the wall above a fire-damaged door. Just beyond the burnt-out buildings they saw a dumper truck, two vans and a small car parked outside a Portakabin.

‘That must be the builders’ hut over there. Looks like there’s a few people working here,’ Boon said.

Approaching the Portakabin door they could hear a man talking in a raised voice. Jane closed the umbrella.

‘It’s a fucking joke stopping everything! This is all your fault, Dermot,’ Barry shouted.

Lee remained calm. ‘He did what he felt was right. Besides, it may only be a temporary setback.’

Barry was still angry. ‘Why can’t we dig the south-side foundations? That’s well away from the bloody coffin.’

Boon was about to knock on the door when Jane stopped him, putting her finger to her mouth and leaning closer.

‘Because the police told us to stop,’ Dermot said defensively.

‘Shut the fuck up, Dermot. Or I’ll fill your big mouth with my fist,’ Barry threatened.

Lee had had enough. ‘Knock it off, Barry. I’m the site foreman, not you! Do as you’re bloody well told, or you’ll be joining the dole queue.’

Barry shook his head in disgust, ‘I may as well piss off home then.’

‘Maybe that’s best for now,’ Lee agreed.

Jane was about to knock on the Portakabin door when it was abruptly opened by Barry, who barged past Boon, nearly knocking him over.

‘Sorry, mate, was I in your way?’ Boon said sarcastically.

‘Fuck off,’ Barry muttered as he got into the red minivan. The wheels spun in the dirt as he accelerated away from the site.

Jane held up her warrant card and introduced herself and Boon.

‘I’m Lee Holland, the site manager. Sorry about Barry. He’s just worried about the site closing down and being out of work.’

Lee was in his late forties, bald, with a large beer belly and a double chin. He wore a black donkey jacket, white T-shirt, blue jeans, and Doc Martens workman’s boots.

Compared with the cold weather outside, the Portakabin was stiflingly hot. There were two paraffin heaters, the interior windows were covered in condensation and there was also an overpowering musty odour, a mixture of dampness and sweat, which Dermot and Lee seemed oblivious to. The cabin had a couple of desks and some filing cabinets and pinned up on the wall were plans for the site. The floor was covered in muddy boot prints.

‘Who found the coffin?’ Jane asked.

‘Barry hit something hard when he was using the digger,’ Lee said. ‘But Dermot here was also there. They cleared the surrounding soil away so you can see it better. I’ll put the kettle on while he tells you about it.’

Dermot recounted how the coffin had been uncovered, not mentioning that Barry had wanted to open it.

‘Did you find anything else which might indicate the area was a graveyard?’ Jane asked.

Lee shook his head. ‘No, not a thing. And we’ve dug out quite a large area so far. Would you like to see the coffin now or have a coffee first and see if the rain eases off?’

‘May as well see it now,’ Jane said, holding up the umbrella. ‘This should help keep the worst of it off us.’

‘It’s pretty muddy out there. Have you got any wellies in your car?’ Dermot asked.

‘Unfortunately, no,’ Jane replied.

‘I’ve got some plastic shopping bags you can use as shoe covers,’ Lee said, opening a desk drawer and taking some out.

‘They might make it more slippery as they’ve no grip, but thanks anyway,’ she replied, thinking she’d look ridiculous wearing the bags.

‘I’ll have some,’ Boon grinned. ‘These shoes were expensive!’

Dermot took them round the back of the Portakabin to the building site, which was bigger than Jane had expected. At about half the size of a football pitch, it was clear that quite a few flats or houses were going to be built on the land. Jane stepped carefully through the mud, whilst balancing herself with the umbrella, but her shoes quickly became covered in the brown sludge.

Standing at the edge of the footings trench, the large grey metal coffin was now clearly visible as the heavy rain had washed away the topsoil. It was over six feet long with an inlaid silver cross on top and fresh scratch marks caused by the digger bucket. It looked old, with patches of rust.