St Benet's

by David Blake

  ‘Perhaps,’ replied Tommy, as he gazed out over the river. ‘Although the problem with living in an actual house is that the only way to change the view is to buy another one; whereas with yours, you can simply slip your moorings, go for a sail and take your pick.’

  ‘That’s true, I suppose,’ agreed Tanner, ‘although I can’t say I’ve done as much, at least not yet.’

  ‘I assume you can sail?’

  ‘Not really. Jenny’s had a go at teaching me, but I’ve proved a poor pupil, I’m afraid.’

  ‘He’s doing all right,’ Jenny interjected, ‘for a Londoner.’

  As Tommy settled back into one of the empty chairs, he asked, ‘So, anyway, Jenny tells me that you wanted to talk about the Claire Judson investigation.’

  ‘If that’s okay with you.’

  ‘I assume this is in connection with what happened to Martin Isaac, and the two priests?’

  ‘And possibly the girl at the cemetery as well.’

  ‘I’ll certainly do the best I can. What do you want to know?’

  ‘Have you been reading what’s been reported about them in the Norfolk Herald?’

  ‘I must admit to having scanned through some of the articles, but more for personal amusement than anything else.’

  ‘OK, well, we started off with what were effectively two lines of enquiry,’ began Tanner, making himself more comfortable by crossing one leg over the other. ‘Our current theory is that someone close to Miss Judson, possibly an old boyfriend, thought Martin Isaac was guilty, despite having been proved innocent, and that the Church had persuaded a couple of local priests to give false alibis to ensure his acquittal. That theory’s been backed up by a letter which the Herald was somehow able to dig up.’

  ‘The one that listed the two priests as having asked for Martin Isaac to be excommunicated from the Church?’

  ‘That’s the one. We’ve seen the original copy, and we believe it to be genuine. So we’re thinking that the murderer somehow found out about the letter before it was published by the paper, and came to the conclusion that it proved Isaac was guilty after all. That person then set about seeking vengeance for Miss Judson’s murder by killing Isaac, and the two priests.’

  ‘And what’s the second theory?’

  ‘That came about through the events surrounding Isaac’s death. You probably don’t know, but his body was removed from what was supposed to have been his final resting place.’

  ‘That was during the storm, when the girl was killed at the cemetery?’

  ‘That’s right. But what you probably also don’t know is that his DNA was discovered at the murder scenes of both Father Richard Illingworth and Father Michael Minshall.’

  ‘I assume you’re ruling out the possibility that he did actually manage to raise himself from the dead?’ asked Tommy, a dry smile playing over his heavily weathered face.

  ‘For now we are, yes,’ Tanner said. ‘However, if I see his undead corpse stacking shelves down the local supermarket, I may be forced to change my opinion on that.’

  ‘So you think someone’s been trying to make it look like Martin Isaac did raise himself from the dead to seek revenge on those who asked for him to be excommunicated?’

  ‘Well, we were, but now we’re thinking that the two are probably one and the same; that some very sick individual is taking revenge for Miss Judson’s murder by making it look as if Martin Isaac has risen from the grave to do something similar.’

  ‘Do you have any suspects, apart from the late Martin Isaac, of course?’

  ‘We do have someone in custody, yes.’

  ‘May I assume that it’s the man Claire Judson was due to meet at the top of St. Andrew’s church tower, as named in the paper?’

  ‘Gary Mitchell,’ nodded Tanner.

  After a momentary pause, Tommy asked, ‘Do you think it’s him?’

  ‘He has motive. We found some old love letters she’d written to him in a box up in his loft, along with a photograph of herself. And he’s admitted to having held a torch for her all these years. We also have a witness who’s stated that he’d been tending to her grave on a regular basis, and he has a history of violence.’

  ‘But I take it you haven’t charged him yet?’

  ‘At the moment we’re building a case against him, although we’re beginning to run out of time.’

  ‘So, how can I help?’

  ‘We were wondering if there was anything you can remember about the murder of Claire Judson, and the subsequent trial; anything that might shed light on what’s been going on in the here and now?’

  ‘For example?’

  ‘Well, for a start, did you think Martin Isaac was guilty?’

  ‘We did at the time. But from what I can recall, there wasn’t all that much in the way of physical evidence; but then again, we didn’t have the luxury of DNA analysis.’

  ‘Can you remember what evidence you did have?’

  ‘Let me see,’ he said, leaning back in his chair. ‘I believe we found Isaac’s fingerprints at the crime scene, and there were a couple of witnesses as well; a gardener who saw Claire running into the church, closely followed by Isaac, and someone else who saw her actually falling from the tower. I think it was a woman tending to a grave. She said that she thought she saw a priest with dark hair looking over the top, moments after she’d fallen.’

  ‘Who she thought was Isaac?’

  ‘She said it could have been him, but she was too far away to be sure.’

  ‘But she did think it was a priest, though?’

  ‘That she was sure of, yes, in that he was wearing a black cassock.’

  ‘Was there anything else?’

  ‘Not that I can recall. It doesn’t sound like much, I know, but you have to remember that there was a huge amount of pressure on us to find the person responsible.’

  ‘And what did Isaac have to say about it?’

  ‘He never confessed, I remember that much.’

  ‘Did he offer an alibi?’

  ‘Not as such, no. He admitted to having been inside the church at the time. He even owned up to having seen Claire go inside, and followed her in shortly afterwards.’

  ‘But he denied actually doing anything to her?’

  ‘Vehemently, yes.’

  With the conversation seeming to have come to a dead end, eventually Tanner asked, ‘Can you think of anything else that may be of use to us?’

  ‘Well, there was something, but nothing ever came of it.’

  ‘What was that?’

  ‘It was a theory being floated about; that he may have been covering up for someone.’

  ‘Any idea who?’

  ‘There was another set of prints found at the scene, those of an altar boy. But Isaac said he wasn’t there at the time, and the boy’s parents provided him with an alibi.’

  ‘Then how come his prints were found at the crime scene?’

  ‘Well, they were found on the ladder leading up to the top of the tower, and on the door. Some were also found on the decking, but Isaac said that he’d been helping him fix the tower’s viewing platform a few days before, which was how his prints must have come to have been there.’

  ‘I don’t suppose you remember this altar boy’s name?’

  ‘I don’t, no.’

  ‘OK, what about after the trial, when Isaac was acquitted? Were any further attempts made to identify another suspect?’

  ‘Not that I can recall, but you have to remember that the trial didn’t take place until more than a year after the actual incident, and by the time it had finished, the world just seemed to have moved on.’

  ‘But…why did it take so long to go to trial?’

  ‘Because it didn’t start out as being a murder investigation.’

  ‘Sorry, but how’d you mean?’

  ‘I thought you knew. Claire Judson didn’t die from the fall, at least not straight away. She was unconscious and badly hurt, but she wasn’t dead.’

  After exchanging a
surprised look with Jenny, Tanner turned back to say, ‘So if she didn’t die then, when did she?’

  ‘Not until nearly a year afterwards.’

  ‘Then how come she wasn’t able to identify the person who’d assaulted her?’

  ‘We never got the chance to ask her. She was left in a coma. She never regained consciousness.’

  As Tanner and Jenny let that hitherto unknown information sink in for a moment, the sight of a sailing boat caught their eye.

  After they’d watched it glide around a bend, its white sail spread out to the side as it drifted slowly downwind, Tanner eventually asked, ‘I don’t suppose you can remember the name of the hospital where she was looked after?’

  ‘It was where everyone seems to end up around here.’

  ‘And where’s that?’

  ‘Just down the road from the police station. Wroxham Medical Centre.’

  CHAPTER THIRTY NINE

  ‘NICE GUY,’ TANNER said, as they walked back to the XJS, ‘but I’m not sure he helped all that much. I mean, it was interesting, especially about how Claire Judson had been left in a coma, but not much more than that.’

  ‘I’m surprised we hadn’t figured that one out for ourselves,’ observed Jenny, ‘especially as we’ve got that scrapbook with all those old newspaper articles.’

  As they reached the car, Jenny continued by asking, ‘How about what he said about Martin Isaac covering up for someone?’

  ‘Assuming Isaac was innocent, and it was this altar boy who Tommy mentioned, I can’t see how it makes much difference to our current investigation.’

  ‘Unless the altar boy found out that the priests had discovered it was him all along, and felt he needed to silence them?’

  ‘Well, yes, I suppose, but if that was the case, why would he have gone to all the trouble of having them executed in such a public, vengeful fashion? Surely he’d have just put a plastic bag over their heads. And why kill Martin Isaac, and then try and make it look like he’d raised himself from the dead?’

  The question was left hanging as they climbed into the car.

  With the doors closed, and Tanner starting the engine, Jenny said, ‘Maybe he didn’t kill Martin Isaac? Maybe his intention had been to make it look like he was the one to kill the priests, but then Isaac killed himself before he had the chance?’

  ‘So he had to change his plan,’ added Tanner, following Jenny’s line of thought. ‘Which was when he came up with the idea of making it look like Martin Isaac had raised himself from the dead?’

  Having reversed out of his parked position, Tanner slotted the Jag’s chrome lever into forward drive to add, ‘After all, I suppose it’s unlikely he would have known Isaac was terminally ill, let alone that he was intending to take his own life.’

  ‘And maybe the manner in which he did it - cutting his own throat on the high altar at St. Benet’s - gave the killer the idea to have him supposedly rise up to seek retribution on those who’d had him excommunicated.’

  As Tanner eased his car out of Tommy’s drive and onto the quiet country lane, deep in thought, he added, ‘And I suppose it could have been him who anonymously sent that letter to Kevin Griffiths, the freelance journalist.’

  ‘It’s possible,’ said Jenny, with undisguised scepticism.

  ‘Although not very likely,’ Tanner was forced to agree.

  Glancing down at his dashboard to see that it wasn’t even five o’clock, he suggested, ‘How about we head over to see how Father Thomas is doing, and ask if he’s up for attending a line-up tomorrow?’

  ‘You mean, at Wroxham Medical Centre, where Tommy said Claire Judson had been cared for when she was in a coma?’

  He shrugged. ‘I can’t help it if the Broads only seems to have one medical facility.’

  Narrowing her eyes over at him, Jenny said, ‘OK, but only on the condition that you don’t go around openly asking people about Claire Judson.’

  ‘I’d never dream of it!’

  ‘And that you take me out for that meal you promised afterwards.’

  ‘Deal!’ agreed Tanner. ‘We’ll be able to chat more about all of this over dinner.’

  CHAPTER FORTY

  STEPPING INTO THE tranquillity of Wroxham Medical Centre’s reception area, Tanner walked straight up to the desk. ‘We’re here to see Father Thomas, who was brought in here earlier this morning.’

  Checking her watch, the lady said, ‘I’m sorry, our visiting hours don’t start again until six o’clock, but you’re welcome to wait until then,’ and gestured over towards a series of green fabric chairs lined up against the far wall.

  Glancing down at his watch to see that it was still shy of half-past five, Tanner decided to pull out his formal ID to say, ‘We’re actually from Norfolk Police. I’m Detective Inspector Tanner, and this is my colleague, Detective Constable Evans.’

  With a stern frown, the lady studied both IDs from over the rim of her glasses before chastising him by saying, ‘If you’d wanted to interview one of our patients out of hours, then you should have called ahead.’

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t know the rules. I’m still relatively new here.’

  ‘That’s no excuse.’

  ‘No, of course. I’ll remember for next time. Is it OK if we go through? We won’t be long.’

  With curt dismissiveness, she checked her monitor to say, ‘He’s in room 21, but you’ll need to sign in first,’ and pointed to a book left lying open on top of the desk.

  Doing as he was told, Tanner signed the book before handing the pen over for Jenny to do the same. He then gazed about, looking for a sign to indicate which rooms were where. Not being able to find any, he leaned in to ask, ‘Sorry to bother you again, but I don’t suppose you could tell us where room 21 is?’

  ‘Down that corridor, on the left,’ the receptionist said, with a wave of her hand.

  ‘Thanks again,’ said Tanner, and with Jenny having finished signing herself in, he led the way they’d been directed.

  Once they’d found the correct door, Tanner knocked quietly and waited for a moment. Not hearing a response, he eased it open to peer inside. Ahead of him was a single bed positioned squarely in the middle of a darkened private room, but the bed itself was lying empty, with the covers thrown back and the pillow dented.

  ‘Father Thomas?’ he called, as he crept inside; but there was no sign of him, or anyone else.

  Turning to Jenny, he asked, ‘This is room 21, isn’t it?’

  Checking the front of the door, Jenny replied, ‘It is, yes. Maybe she gave us the wrong room number?’

  Hearing someone approach from the corridor, she ducked her head out to see a nurse of retirement age tottering her way down towards them, leaning on the handles of a heavily ladened trolley as if it was a walking aid.

  ‘Excuse me,’ Jenny called. ‘I don’t suppose you know if this is the correct room for Father Thomas?’

  Coming closer, the nurse asked, ‘Sorry, what was the name again?’

  ‘Father Thomas. He’s a parish priest who was brought in here earlier today, suffering from a neck injury.’

  Nodding her understanding, the nurse came up to meet them. ‘I believe he checked himself out, just after lunch.’

  Jenny shot Tanner a look of surprise, leaving him to say, ‘We were led to believe that he’d be staying here for a couple of days.’

  ‘I’ve not been told anything about that. All I know is that he told me that he was going to check out today, so that he could prepare for his sermon tomorrow.’

  ‘But the receptionist thought he was still here.’

  ‘If you’re referring to Mary, she’s only just come on duty, so she probably doesn’t know. Now, if you’ll excuse me.’

  ‘Before you go,’ said Tanner, squeezing past Jenny, deliberately avoiding her eye contact. ‘I don’t suppose you’d know where we’d be able to locate medical records concerning a former patient? She was treated here some years ago.’

  Knowing what he was up to, Jenny cle
ared her throat, just loud enough for Tanner to hear, giving him reason to add, ‘Should anyone have the need to find them, that is.’

  Stopping again, the nurse asked, ‘Going back to when?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. Say as far as 1976?’

  ‘Well, this centre wasn’t built until the eighties. As far as I know, all patient files pre-dating that were put into storage, but I’ve no idea where. You’d have to ask someone in administration.’

  ‘I see. Yes, of course. And yourself, Nurse…?

  ‘Nurse Peters.’

  ‘I don’t suppose you were working here at the time?’

  ‘When this place was built?’

  ‘No. Back in 1976.’

  Jenny cleared her throat again, but more obviously that time.

  ‘Are you all right, my dear?’ asked the nurse, casting her eyes over her face with professional concern.

  ‘I’m fine, thank you, but I really feel we must be on our way.’

  ‘As should I, my dear. As should I.’

  Before she set off again, Tanner asked, ‘So, you weren’t working here in 1976?’

  ‘Oh, I was here a long time before that, young man.’

  ‘Is there any chance you can remember a patient who we’ve been told was being looked after here at the time?’

  ‘I doubt it. All I can remember about 1976 was how hot the summer was. We’d never had anything like it, before or since. They even had to turn the water off at the mains.’

  ‘Her name was Claire Judson, if that helps. She was attacked at St. Andrew’s church in Horning, and fell from the tower.’

  ‘You mean that poor girl who was left in a coma?’

  ‘That’s the one. Do you remember much about her?’

  ‘Only how sad the whole affair was. Imagine to have something like that happen to you, and at such a tender young age. And to then die giving birth, never to even see your child. Just sad. So very sad.’

  With their mouths left hanging open, Tanner and Jenny stared round at each other, before Tanner turned back to say, ‘You mean, she was pregnant?’

  ‘That’s right, and by all accounts, by the man who attacked her.’