Unholy Murder

by Lynda La Plante

  ‘No. I’ve just bought a small house which needs some modernisation, especially the kitchen. The one I looked at in your brochure earlier was incredible, but much bigger than mine.’

  Judy selected various brochures and put them in a large envelope. ‘You should ask Mr Durham’s advice. He designs all the interiors for our properties. He even designed our office.’

  ‘Really? I thought he was a building developer?’

  ‘He’s actually the company architect. He does all the plan drawings for the new builds and conversions but now he runs the business, people tend to think of him as a developer.’ She handed Jane the envelope.

  ‘Thanks for these. Where did he learn about interior design?’

  ‘Self-taught. He’s very creative and has a good eye for beautiful things.’

  ‘He certainly has,’ Jane replied with a knowing grin.

  Walking back to the station, Jane felt flattered that Nick Durham had found her attractive and wanted to have dinner with her. Although he was handsome and seemed charming, she wondered if he was like some of the men she’d met in her life – a chancer who only wanted to get her into bed. Whatever his intentions, she knew she’d have to speak with him again and she had to admit she was looking forward to that.

  Crossing the yard, Jane stopped by her car and put the brochures on the passenger seat, before going to the CID office.

  ‘Is Boony about?’ she asked a detective who was writing a report at his desk.

  ‘He’s in the charge room with DI Stanley interviewing that low life who stole the nun’s cross.’

  She remembered Boon telling her Sam Pullen had tried to contact her. She looked in the message book for Sam’s number, then went and sat at her desk and dialled it.

  ‘Hi, Sam, it’s Jane Tennison. Sorry I didn’t get back to you earlier. I’ve been out of the office since yesterday.’

  ‘That’s OK. I just wanted to let you know that I spoke with the anthropologist Richard Eaves. He’s agreed to examine the nun’s body and do a facial reconstruction.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Sam, but DCS Barnes said no to using him. He thinks it will cost too much and the reconstruction could lead to mistaken identifications.’

  ‘That’s a pity. Eaves said he’d do it for free.’

  Jane was surprised. ‘For free?’

  ‘Yes. The university gave him a research grant this semester. He was quite excited when I told him about the mummified nun. He wants to use the case as part of his research and development in facial reconstruction.’

  ‘That’s fantastic news, Sam! I owe you a large drink.’

  ‘I’ll hold you to that. I was going to take Eaves to the mortuary this afternoon to have a look at the body. Will that be OK?’

  ‘Yes, it’s fine by me, though it will be up to DCS Barnes whether or not we use it. How long will it take to do?’

  ‘A full clay reconstruction can take a few weeks. He’ll need to take the head back to his lab and use the skull for the reconstruction.’

  ‘Does that mean he has to take the remaining facial tissue and adipocere off?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’m not sure the diocese would be happy about that.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter what they think. It’s a murder investigation. I’ve already spoken with the coroner and he’s fine about Eaves working on the skull. I’ve also arranged for Dr Martin, the forensic odontologist, to examine the nun’s teeth and take photographs for a comparison with any dental records you might find.’

  Jane was a little irritated that Sam had taken it upon herself to speak to the coroner and other experts without consulting her first, but she didn’t say as much as she knew Sam was trying to be helpful.

  ‘DCS Barnes wants the nun’s cause of death kept quiet until we identify her,’ Jane said.

  ‘The only people I’ve told are the ones I just mentioned and Prof Martin, for obvious reasons.’

  ‘Just let them know to keep it to themselves please,’ Jane said. She then told Sam about the engraved cross they’d recovered.

  ‘Well done, Jane. Identifying MB will be a big step forward in the investigation.’

  ‘I’ve got a meeting this afternoon with the diocesan bishop. Fingers crossed I’ll get a result today.’

  ‘Let me know if you do. Speak to you later.’

  *

  Stanley and Boon were waiting in the interview room for Barry to be brought in by the custody officer.

  ‘You take the lead, Boony.’

  ‘Are you sure, guv?’

  ‘Yeah, you nicked him and know more about the case than I do. I’ll write the interview notes.’

  ‘Thanks, guv,’ Boon replied, looking chuffed.

  Entering the room, Barry let out a big sigh. ‘How long is this going to take?’

  ‘That depends on whether or not you tell us the truth. Take a seat and listen to what my colleague has to say,’ Stanley said.

  Boon cautioned him again. ‘You do not have to say anything unless you wish to do so, but what you say may be given in evidence. Do you understand the caution, Mr May?’

  ‘I ain’t stupid, mate.’

  ‘Are you still happy to be interviewed without a solicitor?’ Boon asked.

  ‘Yeah.’

  Boon opened his notebook. ‘You said at your flat you gave the cross to your wife as a present.’

  ‘Yeah, an early Christmas present.’

  ‘Where and when did you buy it?’ Stanley asked.

  ‘Ages ago, from a stall in Orpington market.’

  ‘Can you describe what’s engraved on it for us?’ Boon asked.

  Barry hesitated before answering. ‘There’s a love heart on it.’

  ‘The love heart is actually a religious emblem known as the Sacred Heart of Jesus – it’s common on crosses that nuns wear,’ Boon told him. ‘What’s written on the other side of the cross?’

  ‘I think there’s some numbers and letters . . .’

  Boon removed the cross, which was in a clear exhibits bag, from his pocket and placed it on the table.

  ‘Can you read what’s written on it?’

  Barry looked offended. ‘I ain’t illiterate . . . M, B, 20, 02, 58.’

  Boon put the cross back in his pocket. ‘And what do you reckon the engravings mean?’

  Barry shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Would you agree it’s probably someone’s initials and date of birth?’ Stanley asked.

  ‘Yeah, I suppose so.’

  ‘Your wife’s initials are KM. She also told me her date of birth is the eleventh of August 1953. Why on earth would you buy her a cross engraved with someone else’s initials and birthday?’ Boon asked.

  ‘I . . . didn’t notice the letters and numbers when I bought it,’ Barry said hesitantly.

  ‘We seized the crowbar from your toolbox. I’ll bet when forensics do some test marks with it, they’ll find a perfect match to the crowbar marks on the coffin,’ Boon said.

  Barry bit his lip and didn’t reply. Boon and Stanley could see he was agitated and trying to concoct another plausible answer. Stanley didn’t give him time to think of one.

  ‘Forcing open a coffin and stealing from the body is a serious offence, for which you could go to prison. I can’t begin to imagine what the other inmates will do to a man who stole a cross from a dead nun.’

  Barry looked even more worried.

  Stanley continued to twist the knife. ‘I imagine the other inmates will take their own divine retribution . . .’

  Barry had heard enough. ‘I didn’t open the coffin with the intention of stealing anything!’

  Boon leaned forward. ‘Then tell us exactly what happened.’

  ‘Lee had gone off to speak with Mr Durham and Dermot went to call the police. I just wanted to see if there was a body inside. If there wasn’t, we could have moved the coffin and carried on working. I used my crowbar to open it and was shocked when I saw the body.’

  ‘Did you realise it was a n
un?’ Boon asked.

  Barry nodded. ‘She was wearing nun’s clothes. Also, her hands were held together on her stomach like she was praying.’

  ‘Show me,’ Boon said.

  Barry interlinked his fingers, with his thumbs up. ‘She was holding a little wooden cross in her hands and some of them bead things religious people have.’

  ‘You mean a rosary,’ Stanley said.

  ‘And where was the cross you stole from her?’

  ‘Around her neck.’

  ‘Why did you feel the need to steal it?’

  Barry sighed. ‘I don’t know . . . it looked nice, and I thought I could maybe sell it for a few quid. Katie was feeling a bit down, so I gave it to her instead.’

  Boon suspected he gave it to his wife as a form of apology for assaulting her.

  ‘Did your wife know it was stolen?’ Boon asked, just as a matter of procedure.

  ‘No. I told her I found it on the building site,’ Barry replied.

  ‘Did you take anything else from the coffin?’ Stanley asked.

  ‘No.’

  ‘Are you sure? It won’t make matters any worse if you did.’

  ‘I swear . . . it was just the cross.’

  Stanley read over the interview notes. Barry agreed they were correct, then signed and dated each page.

  ‘What’s going to happen to me now?’ he asked.

  ‘You’ll be charged with Theft and Outraging Public Decency. If I were you, I’d plead guilty, but don’t be surprised if you get a custodial sentence,’ Stanley told him.

  ‘Prison! For stealing a poxy little cross!’ Barry exclaimed.

  Stanley shook his head in disgust. ‘I’ve dealt with all sorts of criminals in my career . . . but even the worst of them would never steal from a dead nun.’

  *

  ‘How’d it go?’ Jane asked seeing Boon and Stanley walk into the CID office.

  Boon did a thumbs-up. ‘Full confession, signed and sealed. He definitely took the cross.’

  ‘What about the missing knife?’

  ‘He’s adamant he only stole the cross. Interestingly, he remembered that the nun’s hands had been placed together like she was praying, and the wooden cross and beads were in between them. I noticed the same thing when we opened the coffin. Strange thing for someone who just murdered her to do.’

  ‘Not if the person who did it was religious as well, I suppose,’ Jane remarked.

  Stanley nodded. ‘That’s a good point.’

  ‘The Church must keep records of the nuns and priests who worked and lived at the convent,’ Boon added.

  ‘I’m going to the diocesan head office this afternoon with Father Floridia. We’re meeting the bishop,’ Jane said.

  ‘I know. Barnes phoned me earlier after your meeting,’ Stanley said.

  Jane turned to Boon. ‘You know Barnes wants us to keep the nun’s murder quiet for now, don’t you?’

  Boon nodded. ‘The guv told me before we interviewed Barry.’

  Jane told Stanley about her conversation with Sam Pullen and Richard Eaves’ offer to do the facial reconstruction for free.

  ‘We might not need it if you get a result identifying her from the initials on the cross,’ he said.

  Boon put the cross on Jane’s desk. ‘You might want to show this to Father Floridia and the bishop.’

  ‘Anyone know where the Bromley Council offices are?’ Jane asked.

  ‘Just down the road in the Civic Centre at Stockwell Close. It’s literally a two-minute walk,’ Boon told her.

  ‘I need you to go their planning department and make some inquiries. You might want to take some notes of what we need.’

  Boon removed his notebook and pen from his pocket. ‘Fire away.’

  ‘Only tell them the builders uncovered a coffin, and we’ve yet to open it. Ask if they have copies of the original plans and layout of the old convent. I also need copies of the plans and documents relating to the new flats and current building works. They may also know whether or not the grounds are deconsecrated.’

  ‘Is that important, under the circumstances?’

  ‘Barnes wants to know,’ Jane said, knowing Barnes didn’t really.

  ‘Anything else?’ Boon asked.

  ‘Yes. Ask who you should speak to about records of the children who lived at the convent. If possible, get the records from the time the convent closed going back twenty years to start with.’

  Boon closed his notebook. ‘No problem, sarge. I’ll charge Barry May and go down there.’

  ‘Can we keep him in custody overnight? Then take him to court tomorrow morning?’ Jane asked Stanley.

  ‘Bromley Magistrates is closed on a Saturday,’ Boon informed her.

  ‘Why do you want to keep him in custody?’ Stanley asked.

  ‘He’s been using his wife Katie as a punch bag,’ Jane told him. ‘She was covered in bruises and terrified of him. Sadly, she won’t press charges at the moment.’

  ‘He’s an evil piece of shit,’ Stanley said with feeling.

  ‘I’m hoping she’s left him and gone to her parents for now. Even then I’m worried he’ll go round there and give her another beating,’ Jane said.

  ‘I’ll tell the charging sergeant to keep May in custody for court on Monday morning. You can try and get him remanded in custody by the magistrate, but I doubt he will. Although the offence is repulsive, it’s still only a theft of property that isn’t worth much.’

  ‘Well, it’s worth a try,’ she said. ‘Maybe the magistrate will be as repelled as we are.’

  ‘Come on, Boony,’ Stanley said, walking towards the door.

  ‘Where are we going, guv?’ Boony asked.

  ‘To charge Barry May and have a little word in his ear about what happens to scumbags who assault women.’

  They were out of the room before Jane could say anything.

  She did some paperwork while she waited for them to return. It was fifteen minutes before Stanley came back on his own, telling Jane that Boon had gone to the council offices.

  ‘What did you do to him?’ Jane asked.

  ‘Let’s just say he won’t bother his missus again,’ Stanley said.

  ‘You didn’t hit him, did you?’

  Stanley shook his head. ‘I just put him up against the wall and prodded his chest a few times.’

  Jane thought he’d probably made matters worse. ‘That’s really going to help his wife.’

  ‘I told him I know some tasty villains who detest wife beaters. He nearly shit himself when I said I’d give them his address if he ever laid one finger on his wife again.’

  ‘Well, let’s hope it works, for Katie and the children’s sakes.’

  The SOCO walked in and handed Jane two sets of A4 photographs. ‘These are the blowups you wanted of the cross. The others are the mortuary photos which DS Johnson took. They came through in the dispatch bag from the lab this morning.’

  Jane thanked him and put two photographs of the cross and some of the coffin in a folder.

  She turned to Stanley. ‘I spoke with Nick Durham earlier. He runs the company that’s doing the new building work in the convent grounds. He was very helpful, but obviously a bit upset at the site being closed.’

  Stanley shrugged. ‘Tough shit. I’m sure he’s not short of a few quid.’

  ‘There’s some old buildings on the site that were burnt out in the sixties. Durham wondered if they could knock them down,’ Jane continued.

  ‘Fine by me, as long as it’s all surface work and no digging. Let’s go over everything we’ve got so far in my office. We also need to write up an action plan.’

  In his office, Jane sat opposite Stanley.

  ‘Barnes was impressed with your report.’

  ‘I was worried he’d pick holes in it. But he was actually very pleasant and listened to what I had to say – though it would be fair to point out he didn’t agree with all my views. I reckon he’ll form a full murder squad once we identify the nun.’
/>   Stanley nodded. ‘I asked Barnes why he wanted her murder kept quiet. He told me he was running late for a meeting and to ask you.’

  Jane told Stanley about the suicide of young Stephen Phillips and what Barnes had uncovered during the investigation.

  ‘I could see he was still quite emotional about it all,’ she added.

  ‘I’m not surprised. The death of a child is never easy to investigate, but to discover that priests and nuns could abuse kids in their care – then cover it up – is sickening. Do you want me to come with you to meet the bishop?’

  ‘I’ll be fine,’ Jane said. ‘Stephen’s death was nearly twenty years ago now. I’d like to think the Catholic Church’s attitude has changed since then. Father Floridia offered his assistance before we even knew if there was a body in the coffin . . .’

  ‘He may be fishing for information,’ Stanley said.

  ‘I don’t think so. He came across as very sincere.’

  Stanley snorted. ‘You’ve only met him once. First impressions can be misleading. Take Barnes’s advice, tread carefully and don’t give away too much.’

  ‘I haven’t,’ Jane said quickly.

  He raised his eyebrows. ‘Why does it feel to me like you’re trying to defend yourself?’

  ‘I’m not. I just think you’re wrong about Father Chris,’ Jane said without thinking.

  ‘On first-name terms, are you? You forget, Jane, I’ve known you a long time. What is it you’re not telling me?’

  Jane let out a big sigh. ‘I’ve done something I may regret . . .’

  ‘Well, it won’t be the first time,’ he grinned. ‘Come on, spit it out!’

  Jane told him about her meeting with Father Chris the previous evening and what she’d divulged about the nun’s murder.

  Stanley flopped back in his chair looking exasperated. ‘This is more than stupid . . . it’s fucking disobeying a senior officer’s order. Barnes will literally crucify you if he finds out!’

  ‘I didn’t know his views at the time,’ Jane said feebly.

  ‘Common sense alone should have told you not to say anything. And you didn’t even tell me you were going to see Father Floridia.’

  ‘It was an impulse decision on the way home,’ Jane explained. ‘Father Floridia promised he wouldn’t tell the bishop until I said it was OK.’