Линда Ла Плант - Unholy Murder

Mrs Parkin looked mortified. ‘Dead! How?’

‘It looks like he may have taken his own life.’

‘Why... why would he do that?’ she asked, clearly distraught. ‘Bishop Meade is a kind and gentle man.’

‘Other people have said that as well. I understand how distressed you must be, and I’m sure you want to go home right now, Mrs Parkin. But my job is to get to the truth of what happened and why. There’s something very important that’s come up in our investigation and we need to resolve it as soon as possible.’

Mrs Parkin wiped her eyes with a tissue, then took a deep breath before replying. ‘What is it?’

‘We now know the murdered woman was a sister at St Mary’s Covent. Her name was Melissa Bailey. We have reason to believe Archbishop Malone signed a dispensation letter allowing her to renounce her faith and leave the convent. Do you know if that document exists?’

‘No, but it might. Archbishop Malone came down here yesterday morning and said he needed to look through some old documents.’

‘What time was that?’

‘About eleven or eleven-thirty. I offered to get the documents for him, but he said he’d get them himself.’

‘Did he appear angry?’

‘He did, actually. Anyway, he went into the archives and came out a few minutes later holding a document, then left the room without saying anything. It might have been the dispensation letter.’

‘How do you find Archbishop Malone?’

‘To be perfectly honest, he’s an arrogant pig of a man with a terrible temper. He talks down to everyone and shouts when you make a mistake or are too slow in doing something for him. The truth is no one here likes him, but you don’t dare talk back, or he’ll have you sacked. He’s been known to move priests who have upset him to churches in all sorts of godforsaken places.’

Jane remembered Boon telling her Becky had been making inquiries at the council planning offices about the sale of the convent.

‘Remember last time I was here I asked you about quotes or invoices for building work at the convent? I wondered if you found any.’

‘I haven’t really looked, but I can do it now if you want.’

‘Are you sure?’ Jane asked.

‘God rest his soul,’ she said. ‘But a woman was murdered. Whoever did it needs to be found and punished.’

‘Thank you, Mrs Parkin. ‘I’ve got to go back to the station. If you find anything could you fax a copy over to the incident room for me?’ Jane said, handing her the station fax number.

‘That’s fine. But please don’t tell Archbishop Malone I’ve helped you or I’ll lose my job.’

Jane told Barnes about her conversation with Mrs Parkin, but decided not to mention her request for any documents about building work at the convent until she knew if there were any. Barnes said nothing on the journey back to Orpington, clearly in deep thought. As they walked across the station yard he finally spoke.

‘I have to say I wasn’t expecting Meade to top himself.’

‘I found this on the desk,’ Jane said, handing him the photograph.

Barnes looked at it briefly, read what was written on the back and returned it to Jane. ‘A veiled confession, I suppose. Suicide is considered a mortal sin in the Catholic faith. He won’t get God’s forgiveness, a funeral mass or burial in a Catholic cemetery.’

‘I didn’t know that,’ Jane replied.

‘That’s because you’re not a Catholic. And before you ask, I was until I dealt with Stephen Phillips’ death and then renounced my faith. Mark my words, there’s going to be an uproar at the Yard over Meade’s suicide. My career is over, Jane, but I don’t want you, Stanley, or anyone else getting dragged down with me. When the top brass start asking questions, I want you all to say you acted under my orders.’

‘I think you’ll find the officers on the squad are all on your side,’ she said.

‘Thank you. But now Meade is dead, the investigation into Sister Melissa’s murder is all but over. I suspect the commissioner and Malone will agree to sweep everything under the carpet. But I’m not going to let that happen.’ Barnes looked at his watch. ‘DCS Salmon will be here in a couple of hours to take over. Let the team know I want an office meeting in an hour. See if Stanley and Boon are back from their inquiries. Tell them to come to my office so we can discuss Becky’s disappearance. We need to find her.’

Stanley had not yet returned from searching Becky’s flat. A dejected-looking Boon was sitting at his desk with his head in his hands.

‘You, all right, Simon?’ Jane asked.

‘This is all my fault. I should never have told Becky about Bishop Meade being a suspect. Does he know anything?’ he asked.

Jane sat next to him and put her hand on his shoulder. ‘Meade’s dead. He hanged himself in the archbishop’s office this morning before we got to him.’

Boon looked stunned. ‘Did he have a meeting with Becky yesterday?’

‘It’s possible, but we don’t know for certain,’ Jane replied.

He shook his head. ‘If he’s killed Becky, we may never find her.’ He was close to tears.

Jane saw Stanley walk in. ‘Barnes wants a meeting with us in his office.’

‘I know. I just saw him in the corridor. Looks like Meade took the coward’s way out once he knew we were on to him,’ Stanley said.

‘I’m not so sure you are right about Meade. There may be other reasons he took his own life that we’ve yet to discover,’ Jane said.

Boon glared at her. ‘Why are you defending him? He clearly killed Sister Melissa, and he’s probably killed Becky. I hope Meade rots in hell.’

‘It’s possible Melissa was going to the presbytery to see him the night she was killed, but never got there,’ Jane suggested.

‘You’ve changed your tune,’ Stanley remarked.

‘Meade could have gone to the convent to kill Sister Melissa, then packed her bag to make it look like she’d run away,’ Boon said.

‘It’s possible that’s what happened, but he’d have been taking a big risk of getting caught in the convent or waking Julie Dorton.’

Boon stood up. ‘People commit suicide for a reason. Meade couldn’t live with what he’d done. Stanley’s right, he took the coward’s way out.’

‘We’d better go see Barnes,’ Jane said. She had never seen Boon so worked up. She knew he wasn’t thinking clearly and trying to reason with him, or Stanley, would be pointless.

‘Did you find anything of interest at Becky’s flat?’ Barnes asked Stanley.

He handed Barnes a notebook. ‘This was beside her bed. Meade’s name is in it, along with some others. I think it’s her thoughts about the investigation.’

‘Strange she didn’t take it with her to work,’ Barnes remarked, flicking through it.

‘She’s got a small pocketbook for work,’ Boon said. ‘Becky told me she kept a notebook beside her bed. She’d often wake in the night and think of something important. She said if she didn’t write it down, she’d have forgotten about it by the morning.’

‘I know that feeling well,’ Barnes replied. He put the notebook down on his desk. ‘There’s tons of stuff in there, but it’s all in shorthand.’

‘I can read shorthand,’ Jane said.

Barnes handed her the notebook. ‘Transcribe and type it up for me, please.’ He turned to Stanley. ‘Did you speak to Becky’s flatmate?’

‘Yes, at her workplace. Her name’s Jayne Burman. She was at school with Becky and has been her flatmate for two years. She said Becky had become obsessed with the murder, thinking it could be her breakthrough to working for a mainstream paper.’

‘Did she mention Meade?’ Barnes asked.

‘Not by name. Burman said Becky was very perky yesterday morning. When Jayne asked why, Becky said she had a lead on someone connected to the Church to follow up on, which might prove interesting.’