St Benet's

by David Blake

  ‘Indeed. But thinking back to when he was acquitted, can you remember if there was anyone in particular within the community who may have perhaps been more upset than others over the court’s decision?’

  ‘Nobody that I can think of. To be honest, I think most people were relieved that he’d been found innocent. He was, after all, a parish priest. I suspect many more questions would have been asked if he had been found guilty, especially with the church’s ties with St. Andrew’s school.’

  Tanner nodded, before going on to ask, ‘After the trial, do you know if anyone else was accused?’

  ‘Not to my knowledge.’

  ‘Were there any rumours as to who else may have been responsible?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mr Tanner, but I make a point of never listening to idle gossip, and I’d advise you not to either. Now, you must excuse me, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Just one more question. Can you tell me who paid for his funeral?’

  Losing all pretence of patience, the bishop said, ‘I’ve no idea. Now, I have people waiting for me.’

  Without offering either of them a smile, he left them to step outside to join the group of priests.

  As soon as he was far enough away not to be able to hear, Jenny stared up at Tanner, and in a low, harsh whisper, said, ‘For Christ sake, John, what the hell did you think you were doing?’

  Surprised to see the look of anger in her eyes, Tanner said, ‘Sorry, but…how do you mean?’

  ‘I thought I told you to be discreet!’ she added, darting a look over towards where the bishop had joined his colleagues.

  ‘But nobody overheard us, did they?’

  ‘I meant discreet as in what you were going to ask him. You may as well have read him his rights and asked if he wanted to see a lawyer.’

  ‘Oh, come on, Jen…’

  ‘And you told him you were from Norfolk Police.’

  ‘Well, yes, but only in passing.’

  ‘But would he have known that? I mean, you were talking to him as if he was a suspect in a murder investigation - and there isn’t even a murder investigation for him to be a suspect in!’

  ‘Honestly, Jen, I really think you’re over-reacting.’

  The moment he’d said it, he knew it was a mistake.

  ‘You think I’m over-reacting? My god! Just wait till you hear what DCI Forrester will have to say about this!’

  ‘Are you going to tell him?’

  ‘Of course I’m not going to bloody tell him! How could you even think that?’

  ‘OK, so who will?’

  ‘Who do you think?’

  ‘The bishop? I hardly think he’s going to be calling Head Office to make a complaint about having some off-duty policeman asking him a couple of questions.’

  ‘But it was hardly a couple of questions, though, was it?’

  ‘I was trying to find out what he knew about Martin Isaac.’

  ‘You even asked him if it was his idea for him to be excommunicated!’

  ‘I asked him if he’d been involved in the decision.’

  ‘And then if he knew who paid for the funeral!’

  ‘Well, yes, but it could be important.’

  ‘He’s the Bishop of Norfolk! He deserves to be spoken to with more respect.’

  ‘Why? Because he’s wasted his entire life believing in something that doesn’t exist?’

  A dark, ominous shadow fell over Jenny’s face. Fixing him with a furious glare, she snarled, ‘Are you suggesting that I’ve wasted my entire life believing in something that doesn’t exist?’

  ‘Well…no, but you’re hardly a devout follower, are you?’

  Stunned as much by his attitude as by what he’d said, Jenny stared at him open-mouthed. But it didn’t take her more than a moment before she came charging back with, ‘And why’s that? Because I’m having sex outside of marriage with some middle-aged divorcee?’

  Tanner was about to reply, when he saw the tears threatening the corners of her eyes.

  ‘You may as well call me a slut!’ she said, her voice breaking with emotion.

  Tanner realised just how stupid he’d been. By insulting her religion, he’d inadvertently managed to insult her as well, which was the last thing he’d wanted to do.

  ‘I’m sorry Jen. I didn’t mean...’

  ‘You didn’t mean what? To say that I’m stupid for believing in God, or to tell me that I’m too much of a slut to be a Catholic?’

  ‘No, of course I didn’t…’

  ‘Well, fuck you!’ she spat, tears spilling out over her eyelids to begin tumbling down her face.

  Shrugging away from him, keeping her head down so nobody would be able to see just how upset she was, she stormed out of the church, pushing and shoving her way past the dozens of people who’d assembled outside.

  ‘Shit!’ cursed Tanner, watching helplessly as she stormed off. He couldn’t even call after her, not with so many people standing around.

  The moment she drifted out of sight, he realised that he was going to have to chase after her. After all, he’d driven her there, and he had no idea how she’d get back without him. But by the time he’d side-stepped his way through the crowd, apologising profusely as he did, Jenny was nowhere to be seen.

  With worry now adding to his deep sense of guilt, he began working his way around the cathedral, desperately trying to find her. Having reached the far end, there was still no sign.

  Berating himself for having been so insensitive, not only to her religion, but to how difficult it must have been for her to have entered into a relationship with him at all, let alone knowing that he’d been married before, sick with worry he pulled out his phone and dialled her number.

  It rang through to answerphone.

  He tried again, but the same thing happened.

  Deciding to leave a message, on hearing the beep, he said urgently, ‘Jen, I’m sorry. It was incredibly stupid of me to have said those things. I didn’t mean any of it. And you were right. I should have treated the bishop with more respect. I certainly shouldn’t have asked him all those stupid questions. I don’t even know why I did. Probably just a force of habit. Anyway, please call me, and I’ll take you home. OK. Bye for now.’

  Ending the call, he cursed again.

  ‘Bye for now?’ he repeated. What sort of a stupid way to end the call was that? For a second he thought he should have told her that he loved her, but he hadn’t even told her as much face-to-face.

  Out loud, he asked himself, ‘What the hell am I going to do now? Drive back without her?

  ‘Shit,’ he cursed again. There was nothing for it. He’d no idea how, but he had no choice. He was going to have to try and find her.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  TANNER SPENT THE next two hours wandering around Norwich town centre, desperately hoping to catch a glimpse of Jenny, occasionally stopping to check his phone for missed calls. After leaving her a few more messages, each one more desperate than the last, finally, at just after four o’clock, he received a text message from her. It said, simply, ‘Gone home by train.’

  Relieved to hear that she was safe, he responded, thanking her for letting him know and apologising once again, before making his way back to his car.

  About forty minutes later he arrived back at Ranworth Marina’s car park, only to find that her Golf had gone from where she’d left it on Friday evening. Assuming that one of her friends must have given her a lift over to pick it up, his heart sank. He’d been hoping that she’d be waiting there for him, even if it was to spend an hour yelling at him. Anything would have been better than her not being there.

  He hurried over to his boat.

  ‘Jen?’ he called out, placing his foot on the side.

  Unsurprisingly, there was no reply.

  Leaving the canvas awning where it was, he undid the two elastic ties which secured the entrance to scramble on board.

  Checking inside the cabin only served to confirm his fears.

  Her clothes, magazines, makeu
p - everything had gone.

  He forced his lips together. He wanted to cry, but wouldn’t allow himself. He knew then that he was in love with her; but it had taken for her to leave for him to realise it.

  Pulling out his phone, he was about to dial her number again when he stopped himself. He must have called her more times during that one afternoon than he had since they’d met. To do so again would only come over as immature desperation. He knew she was safe. For now, that would have to be enough.

  Slumping down on one of the bench seats in the cockpit, he buried his head in his hands and started going over the argument once again in his head, in the exact same way he’d been doing since she’d stormed off. Cursing himself once more for not realising just how hurtful his remarks would have been, he stood up with the intention of driving over to her flat to speak to her in person. A second later he realised how suicidal that idea was. Turning up at her place, unannounced and uninvited, was probably worse than leaving her half a dozen answerphone messages. He was the one who was at fault, and he couldn’t push her. He was just going to have to wait for her to call him. Hopefully she would, and preferably before they had to see each other on Monday.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Monday, 1st July

  TANNER WAS LATE heading in to work. He hadn’t overslept. Quite the opposite; he’d woken up long before his alarm had gone off, but he’d been slow to get out of bed. When he did eventually manage to claw his way out, he’d completely lost track of time; his normal weekday routine being interrupted by bouts of doing nothing but staring at either his phone, or the space just beyond it.

  It didn’t helped that he found himself in no particular rush to get to work, as doing so would mean having to face the person who he’d treated with such irreverent insensitivity on Saturday afternoon.

  Apart from the text message she’d sent to him saying that she’d taken the train home, he hadn’t heard from her. Subsequently they’d yet to speak. It was therefore looking increasingly likely that a frosty reception awaited him, Jenny probably doing her best to ignore him, while he looked for ways to make amends. Despite that, he found himself desperate to see her, hoping she’d allow him to make a proper apology, face to face.

  As he crossed the car park, heading for the entrance to Wroxham Police Station, he was unusually nervous. He had no idea what she was going to say to him, if anything. Nor had he the slightest clue what he was going to say to her.

  Pushing open the heavy main door and giving his customary nod to the duty sergeant, he began flirting with the idea that maybe she wouldn’t be in, and had decided to call in sick instead.

  The moment the thought crossed his mind he fumed at himself for being such a pathetic coward. The argument had been his fault, and his alone. It was therefore only right that he should face whatever punishment was forthcoming, whether that was in the form of a wall of silence or being told what an arse he was in front of the entire department.

  As he approached the office doors, he stopped to peek through the circular glass windows.

  She was there, sitting at her desk, exactly where she should be.

  Checking his watch, he realised that he was nearly half an hour late. So without delaying things any longer, he took a deep breath and pushed open the door to slink his way inside.

  Reaching his desk, he glanced over to where she sat glaring at her monitor, occasionally stabbing an accusatory finger at a wholly innocent keyboard.

  As he draped his coat over the back of his chair, still without a single idea as to what he was going to say, but knowing he had to come up with something, he eventually plumped for what he hoped would be a safe, albeit rather lame, bet.

  ‘Morning, Jen.’

  She didn’t look up. Instead, in a flat monotone voice, she said, ‘Forrester’s looking for you.’

  Pleased that at least they’d started talking again, sort of, Tanner made a point of glancing at his watch. ‘I am a little late. I don’t suppose he said what it was about?’

  ‘Not really. Although I did hear him mention something about how Head Office had been on the phone, after receiving a call from the Bishop of Norfolk, although I can’t imagine why he’d have been calling them.’ Finally looking up, she glared at him to ask, ‘Can you?’

  ‘Look, Jen, I’m really sorry about what I said on Saturday.’

  ‘I think you should be more worried about what Forrester’s going to say to you today,’ she said, before turning back to her monitor, muttering, ‘you insensitive prick.’

  ‘You’re right. I am an insensitive prick.’

  When no further response was forthcoming, he added, ‘Is there anything I can do to help make it up to you?’

  ‘Apart from stepping under a bus, nothing springs to mind, no.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘But before you do that, you’d probably better see what Forrester wants.’

  Tanner looked over towards his superior’s office with a distinct lack of enthusiasm.

  ‘Oh, and good luck!’ she added, sending him a sour grin that overflowed with sarcastic insincerity.

  Without feeling the need to respond, he stood up and began making his way over to Forrester’s office.

  Having knocked on the door, he poked his head around the corner to say, ‘You wanted to see me, sir?’

  ‘Ah, good morning, Detective Inspector Tanner, or should I say, good afternoon.’

  ‘Yes, sorry I’m a little late, sir. Traffic over Wroxham Bridge.’

  ‘Is that so?’ replied Forrester, with a look of unabashed contempt.

  Given that half the people working there probably had to cross the same bridge to get to work, including DCI Forrester, and that Tanner was apparently the only person who’d arrived quite so late, he made a mental note not to use that as an excuse again.

  ‘As you’ve already had such a busy morning, I suppose you’d better sit down and take the weight off your feet.’

  Tanner hated to be talked to in such a patronising manner, but anticipating what was to follow, he thought it was probably best to simply do as he was told, making sure to keep his mouth shut.

  Staring at his computer screen, in a conversational tone, Forrester said, ‘I hear you went to church at the weekend.’

  ‘Er, that’s right, sir.’

  ‘Not just any church either, but none other than Norfolk Cathedral!’

  ‘It was Martin Isaac’s funeral, sir.’

  ‘I’d no idea you knew him personally.’

  ‘I didn’t, sir.’

  Turning to glare over at him, Forrester asked, ‘Then what the hell were you doing there?’

  ‘I was interested to see who would show up.’

  ‘But for what possible reason?’

  ‘Curiosity, I suppose,’ he shrugged.

  ‘I see. And your decision to interrogate the Bishop of Norfolk afterwards was what - because you wanted to know what that would be like as well?’

  ‘I hardly interrogated him, sir.’

  ‘But you did ask him a series of questions relating to the death of Martin Isaac, did you not?’

  ‘Well…’

  ‘Even though you knew full well that we weren’t pursuing it as a criminal investigation?’

  ‘Yes, but…’

  ‘And that the coroner’s office had concluded that it was nothing more sinister than death by misadventure?’

  Tanner elected to remain silent. At the time it had seemed harmless enough, but with hindsight, he knew that it had been a mistake. Jenny’s reaction had been enough for him to know that.

  Still glowering, Forrester asked, ‘Just what in god’s name were you thinking?’

  ‘I’m sorry, sir,’ he said. ‘We started talking to him after the service, and I suppose I got carried away.’

  ‘We?’ questioned Forrester. ‘Who’s we?’

  ‘Er, Jenny and myself, sir.’

  The second he’d said it, he wished he hadn’t.

  ‘You mean Jenny, as in DC Evans?’

/>   ‘Yes, sir.’

  ‘What the hell was she doing there?’

  ‘I invited her to come with me.’

  ‘My god! I suppose I should be grateful that you didn’t invite the whole of the Norfolk Constabulary.’

  ‘No, sir. Just Jenny…that is, DC Evans, sir.’

  Hearing her first name being mentioned again, Forrester realised what that must have meant. Spreading his hands out over the surface of his desk, in an imploring tone he said, ‘Please don’t tell me that you two are seeing each other.’

  ‘Er, no, sir,’ said Tanner, muttering under his breath, ‘At least, not anymore.’

  ‘Well, that’s something, I suppose. I simply won’t tolerate inter-personnel relationships.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’ He’d never known the DCI to express his opinion on the subject before, but it didn’t come as much of a surprise.

  ‘I’ve seen enough of them in my time,’ continued Forrester, ‘and they never end well, believe you me!’

  Tanner was tempted to agree with him, but refrained.

  ‘Anyway, suffice it to say that you’ve been suspended, until further notice.’

  It took a full moment for Tanner to realise what Forrester had just said. The second it had, wide-eyed in shock, Tanner raised his voice to ask, ‘What?’

  ‘I’m sorry, Tanner, but I don’t have any choice. Superintendent Whitaker was on the phone to me even before I got in. To say that he was furious would be an understatement, and I could fully understand why. A complaint of police harassment from the Catholic Church? I mean, it’s unprecedented!’

  ‘Harassment?’ Tanner’s face flushed with humiliated anger.