Unholy Murder

by Lynda La Plante

  ‘I went to the convent, but it was closed down. I spoke with a priest at the local Catholic church. He told me there had been a fire at the convent and it was going to be sold.’

  ‘Can you remember the priest’s name?’ Jane asked.

  ‘I’m sorry. It escapes me now.’

  ‘Do you remember exactly where the church was?’

  ‘Yes, it was just down the road from the convent.’

  Jane knew it was St Mary’s. ‘Did you ask the priest if he knew Melissa?’

  ‘He said he didn’t but he offered to make some inquiries at the diocesan offices for me. I spoke with him again a couple of days later. He said he’d spoken with the bishop who showed him the letter of dispensation he’d signed for Melissa to leave the sisterhood. He told me the bishop said all the convent sisters’ details had been destroyed in the fire, and there wasn’t a lot the Church could do to help me find Melissa because she had renounced her faith and left the convent. But he was very understanding. I gave him my address and phone number in Canada. He said he’d contact me if he heard anything about Melissa’s whereabouts. But I didn’t hear from him again.’

  ‘Did he mention the bishop’s name?’ Jane asked.

  ‘Probably, but again, I can’t remember now. I didn’t know what else to do, so I returned to Canada. I hoped and prayed that one day Melissa would contact us, but as the years went by Fiona and I knew something bad must have happened.’ Jane thought she could hear him choking back a sob.

  ‘I’m deeply sorry for your loss, Mr Bailey. Our investigation is progressing quickly and I believe we are getting close to discovering who killed your daughter.’

  ‘Do you have any suspects?’ he asked.

  ‘Yes, but legally I can’t tell you who they are at present. We hope to make some arrests in the next few days. I will phone you to update you. If you want to speak to me, or there’s anything else you remember that might be important, just call me in the office. If I’m not here leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can.’

  ‘Do you think someone at the convent killed her?’ he asked, sounding bitter.

  ‘We are looking at a number of possibilities. I can tell you Melissa had packed her suitcase and was going to leave the convent. We think she may have been killed on the night she tried to do so. It would be wrong of me to speculate any further . . . but rest assured we will find whoever was responsible for her death.’

  ‘I hope you do. Inspector Tremblay asked about Melissa’s dental records. I have them. The Kingston officer who advised us said it would be worthwhile getting them from our dentist in case our fears became a reality, which they now have. I was thinking of flying over to view Melissa’s body and arrange for her to be flown back to Canada for burial.’

  ‘That’s understandable, Mr Bailey. I will speak with the coroner and ask if Melissa’s body can be released. He will probably ask for a second post-mortem to be done first. I will call you as soon as I’ve spoken to him.’

  Lawrence started to cry and must have handed the phone to Tremblay, because his was the next voice Jane heard.

  ‘I’ve had the dental records and your faxed copy taken to our forensic odontologist. I’m expecting a result in the next hour or so. I’ll get straight back to you when it comes in,’ Tremblay said.

  Jane thanked him and said she would be on her home number in half an hour.

  *

  When she got home, Jane poured herself a glass of wine and waited for the phone to ring. It wasn’t long before Tremblay called.

  ‘Melissa had a filling, a chipped tooth and two wisdom teeth removed when she was sixteen so braces could be fitted. Your odontologist noted the same in his report regarding the chip and missing teeth. It would seem Melissa Bailey is your victim. I’ve faxed a copy of our odontologist’s confirmed identification and Melissa’s dental record to double check your end. I also phoned Mr Bailey to let him know the result. As you can imagine, he and Fiona were even more devastated having their fears finally confirmed. Lawrence wanted to fly to the UK tomorrow, but I persuaded him it was best to wait until you’d spoken with the coroner.’

  ‘Thanks for all your help, inspector . . . especially for informing the Baileys. I know it can’t have been easy.’

  Tremblay sighed. ‘They say knowing what happened to a loved one is supposed to give some kind of closure, but the truth is, it never does. I wish you well in your investigation. Please let me know the outcome.’

  ‘I will,’ Jane said, and put the phone down.

  She found herself thinking of Nick again and started to dial his home number but stopped halfway through. She was tired, it had been a stressful day and she didn’t think she could deal with an emotional argument.

  Jane finished her glass of wine then went upstairs to change into her pyjamas. As she closed the bedroom curtains, she noticed a green Range Rover go past her house and stop about forty yards up the road. The streetlights were too dim to be able to read the number plate, but Jane suspected it was Nick’s car. She switched the bedroom light off, then peered through the curtains and watched as the driver did a U-turn and parked up. If it was Nick, she wondered why he didn’t park outside her house. She waited to see if the driver got out of the car, but there was no movement. Then, as a small car drove past the Range Rover, its headlights lit up the driver.

  ‘What the hell are you playing at?’ Jane said to herself, watching Nick sink down in the driver’s seat.

  Jane put her slippers on, hurried downstairs and opened the front door. She heard the Range Rover’s engine start and watched as it slowly pulled away from the kerb with no lights on. She walked into the middle of the road and stood with her hands on her hips blocking the way. The car stopped in front of her, and she marched up to the driver’s side window.

  ‘Are you bloody well spying on me?’ she demanded.

  Nick slowly wound down the window, shame-faced. ‘No. I was trying to build up the courage to knock on your door and talk to you.’

  ‘Did you come here last night as well?’ she asked brusquely. Nick nodded.

  ‘We definitely need to talk, then,’ she said, spotting Gerry watching from his living-room window.

  ‘Are you seeing—’ Nick began.

  ‘Not out here!’ She stomped indoors.

  Nick parked his car and followed her inside.

  ‘What the hell is going on, Nick?’ she asked as he entered the living room.

  ‘I saw you kissing another man,’ he said. ‘If there’s someone else, I’d rather you just told me and ended our relationship.’

  She raised her eyebrows. ‘There’s nobody else. It certainly wasn’t me you saw kissing someone.’

  ‘I know what I saw, Jane,’ he replied.

  ‘Where and when was this supposed to have happened?’

  ‘Yesterday afternoon. I’d just left my father’s place and saw you outside the house next to St Mary’s. You were with a tall, dark-haired man in a grey tracksuit. You were touching his arm . . . then you hugged and kissed him.’

  Jane was dumbstruck as she realised Nick had seen her with Father Chris.

  ‘It was you, wasn’t it?’ Nick asked, accusingly.

  Jane let out a big sigh. ‘Yes, it was, but you’ve misread the whole situation. The man you saw is Father Floridia. He’s the priest at St Mary’s. I didn’t kiss him . . . he hugged and kissed me. It was one small parting peck on the cheek – but believe me, I was as shocked as you were.’

  ‘Then why were you touching his arm?’

  ‘He’d been helping me with the investigation. He was upset about Sister Melissa’s murder – so much so that he was questioning his role as a priest. I was just trying to comfort him, that’s all.’

  ‘Why did he kiss you then?’

  ‘It was a final goodbye. He’d been told by his superior not to speak to me again. We both thought it best we didn’t have any further contact. He wished me well with the investigation and kissed me on the cheek. I was surpris
ed because I didn’t think it was the sort of thing a priest would do.’

  ‘Exactly! You must have encouraged him.’

  ‘This is ridiculous! I did nothing to encourage him.’

  ‘I don’t believe you.’

  ‘Well, it’s the bloody truth! If you don’t believe me there’s nothing more to be said and we may as well end our relationship here and now!’ Jane snapped.

  Nick was taken aback. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you.’

  ‘Well, you have. If you want this relationship to work, we need to trust each other.’

  ‘I know. I’ve been a complete and utter idiot.’

  ‘Yes, you have, by jumping to the wrong conclusions. If I’d told you about Father Floridia, then I suppose none of this would have happened. I wondered why you were being so off with me on the phone.’

  ‘My head was all over the place. To be honest, seeing you with another man was like a flashback to some really bad memories which made me panic and overreact.’

  ‘What were they?’ Jane asked, knowing it was to do with his wife.

  ‘I’m divorced. I was married for two weeks then my wife ran off with my best man. I’d never suspected for one minute she’d been having an affair with him. At the time I felt so humiliated, I became depressed and didn’t go out socially for a long time.’

  ‘That’s awful. Why on earth did she go through with the wedding?’

  ‘She said she was confused and didn’t know what to do. She thought she still loved me but realised, after the wedding, she didn’t. The truth is, Brenda didn’t give a toss about me before or after the wedding. What also hurt was a friend of mine suspected the affair but didn’t have the guts to tell me. I know if I’d been in his position, I would have said something.’

  ‘I’m so sorry, Nick . . . you didn’t deserve to be treated like that.’

  ‘I shouldn’t have doubted you, Jane. Stupidly, I thought the priest must be your boyfriend. I even wondered if you were using me to find out more about the building site and convent. Can we put this behind us and move on . . . or would you rather I just left?’

  Jane knew she ought to be honest, but couldn’t bring herself to tell Nick she had initially considered going out with him to learn more about his father. ‘I understand now why you reacted like you did. If I’d been in your shoes, I’d probably have felt the same.’ She reached out, took hold of his hand, and drew him closer. ‘I want to move on in our relationship, Nick Durham. So you can leave . . . but not until the morning.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  When Jane woke, Nick wasn’t there. She was anxious, until she saw the note he’d left on the pillow.

  You truly are a sleeping beauty. Didn’t want to wake you as I know you must be tired after the long hours you’ve been working. Have to be at a site survey for 8 a.m., so need to pop home and get changed. Thank you for being so understanding. I will never let my past come between us again. I think I’m falling in love with you, Jane Tennison . . . Love, Nick xxxx

  Jane smiled, and as she got ready for work, a warm glow stayed with her. She arrived at the incident room just after eight. It was already full, as officers on the inquiry completed their reports for the meeting with DCS Barnes. She checked the fax in-tray for the Canadian odontologist’s report and quickly scanned it. He was in no doubt that Melissa Bailey was the victim. Although it wasn’t in itself a big step forward, it would allow the coroner to release the body to her parents and they could take her home. It was a sad thought, but in some ways comforting that after years of heartache they could finally lay her to rest and know she was at peace.

  Jane sat at the desk opposite Boon who was reading over their report.

  ‘Morning, Boony. Anything you want to add to the report?’

  ‘No, it looks fine to me,’ he replied with a hang-dog look.

  ‘You all right?’ she asked.

  ‘I got stood up by Becky. I sat in the effin’ pub for an hour waiting for her.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry. Maybe something important came up and she couldn’t get hold of you?’ Jane suggested.

  ‘I tried calling her, but there was no answer. I thought she might have gone out with her flatmate instead . . . or another bloke,’ he said glumly.

  ‘Have you tried ringing her at work?’

  ‘Yes, but she’s not in yet. I knew it was all too bloody good to be true. I feel like she’s just used me to get information about the investigation.’

  ‘I doubt that’s the case. Becky did take you to meet Annette Gorman, which led us to Julie Dorton and Sister Margaret, after all.’

  He perked up a bit. ‘I guess so. I’ll try calling her again after the meeting.’

  Jane told him about the foxglove seeds.

  ‘Bloody hell. As if strangling and stabbing Melissa wasn’t enough. The foxglove stinks of Mother Adele’s handiwork.’

  ‘Not necessarily. She might have warned others about the danger of handling or digesting the plants, thus innocently passing on her knowledge – possibly even to Meade, who was a regular visitor to the convent.’

  ‘Fair point,’ Boon said.

  ‘I spoke with Melissa’s father in Canada last night,’ Jane said. She told Boon about her conversation with Lawrence Bailey.

  ‘So, Meade also lied to him about knowing Melissa. The evidence against him is definitely mounting.’

  *

  ‘Interestingly Malone’s name came up again last night,’ Jane said. ‘Meade told Mr Bailey that Bishop Malone signed a dispensation and the Church couldn’t help him find Melissa because she’d renounced her faith. If Malone was involved in a cover-up about her disappearance it has to be because he knew what happened or was directly involved – plus it would take at least two people to move the coffin.’

  ‘The pieces of the jigsaw are falling into place,’ Boon smiled.

  ‘Hopefully. I got a confirmed ID the body is Melissa.’ Jane showed Boon the dental match report.

  ‘That’s good news, sarge. I’m glad you found the Baileys. You’ll have brought them some closure.’

  ‘We found them, Boony. We brought them that closure. This is a team effort. You’ve played a big part in this investigation and raised some interesting points others didn’t think of. You are going to make a good detective. I’m looking forward to doing your annual report.’

  Boon looked scared. ‘Now I’m worried,’ he said.

  ‘Is Stanley or Barnes in yet?’ Jane asked.

  ‘Barnes isn’t. Stanley’s in his office reading a copy of our report. He said he doesn’t want to be disturbed. I think Stanley’s worried Barnes might be taken off the case.’

  ‘Between you and me, he’s only got himself to blame if he is. He let his emotions get the better of him when he interviewed Meade. Then the way he spoke to Archbishop Malone was naïve for a man of his experience.’

  It was nine on the dot when a dour-faced Barnes walked into the incident room, followed by Stanley, also looking downcast.

  ‘This doesn’t look good,’ Boon whispered to Jane.

  Barnes cleared his throat. ‘Good morning, everyone. I’ll keep this brief and to the point. I am to be relieved of my command later this morning and moved to a desk job at the Yard. DCS Salmon, a devout Catholic, will be taking over. In the meantime, complete your reports for a two o’clock meeting with my replacement. I’d like to thank you all for your hard work and support during my brief time on this investigation . . . especially Stanley, Tennison and Boon.’

  His announcement was greeted by a stunned silence. Then one of the detectives said, ‘Why have you been replaced, guv?’

  ‘It would seem my remarks to the press on Monday about the Catholic Church and cover-ups did not go down well with the commissioner, or the current archbishop of the diocese, Andrew Malone. That said, I am certain, if you carry on with the same determination and enthusiasm, you will as a team solve the murder of Sister Melissa Bailey.’

  Barnes left the room. While t
he rest of the officers started talking animatedly amongst themselves, Stanley told Jane and Boon that Barnes wanted to speak with them in his office.

  ‘Can I make a quick phone call, guv?’ Boon asked Stanley.

  ‘Is it important?’

  ‘Yes, very. It’s connected to the investigation.’

  ‘Go on then, but don’t be long. Barnes is in a bad enough mood as it is.’

  Boon waited until Stanley had left the room, then phoned the News Shopper office, asking to speak to Becky Rogers.

  Stanley told Barnes that Boon would be a couple of minutes, and Jane went to get some coffees while they waited for him.

  When Boon finally walked in, she thought he looked anxious.

  ‘You all right?’ she whispered, handing him a coffee.

  ‘Becky still isn’t at work. I’m a bit worried about her. I’ll tell you why later.’

  They were interrupted by Barnes. ‘Is there something you two would like to share with me and Stanley?’

  ‘No, sir,’ they replied in unison.

  ‘Just so you both know, the commissioner told me not to go near Meade or Malone without his approval. He’s meeting Malone at the Yard at ten. He said he’d assess the situation and decide what was to happen after their meeting.’

  ‘So you might still be running the investigation, sir?’ Boon asked hopefully.

  ‘Afraid not, son. I’m history.’ He shrugged. ‘I’m not particularly bothered. I’ve done my thirty years, so I can retire if I want on a full pension. Did you contact the Kingston police, Tennison?’

  Jane nodded, then told Barnes about locating the Baileys, her conversation with Lawrence Bailey and the dental records matching Melissa.

  ‘Fucking Malone is involved up to his neck. He knows Meade murdered Melissa and now we can’t speak to either of them!’

  ‘Things might change once the commissioner is aware of all the evidence,’ Stanley said.

  ‘And pigs might fly,’ Barnes retorted. ‘Stanley updated me about your visit to Sister Margaret. Although I despise the woman for what she did to those poor children, it’s bad news she has dementia. That said, her reaction to seeing the photo of Meade and pointing out Melissa can be used against him as evidence.’