Whilst the prior and I accompanied Detective Sergeant Sullivan to the crypt, I suggested that Father Bowman should be in temporary charge of the monkstables as a search plan was organized. He agreed. As Father Prior led the way to the internal entrance from the reception area, collecting the key en route, Abbot Merryman hailed me.
‘The minute you’ve finished with that policeman, Nick, I need an urgent and very confidential word with you. In my office. It’s about Simon Houghton. It’s vital we speak at the earliest opportunity.’
CHAPTER 4
ONCE INSIDE THE crypt, I walked behind Detective Sergeant Sullivan as Prior Tuck led the way and switched on the dim lights. He had also brought his torch. There was no one else with us and no one spoke as the detective looked around. I found myself wondering if I had encountered Sullivan during my service but decided I hadn’t. He struck me as very business-like, smartly dressed in a well-cut sports jacket which was predominantly green, along with chinos, a pale-cream shirt, green tie and brown shoes. He reminded me of some estate owners I knew and I wondered if he was from that kind of rural background. Not particularly tall, and certainly not overweight, he had a good head of fair hair, was clean-shaven and did not wear spectacles. He carried a brown leather briefcase and I thought he looked like a rural general practitioner, racehorse owner or perhaps a vet.
‘This is like descending into the Black Hole of Calcutta,’ he commented. ‘What happens down here? Is this supposed to represent Hell?’
‘No,’ I told him. ‘Hell is the staff car park at going-home time!’
Prior Tuck, who was leading the way, responded, ‘This is what’s left of an old abbey that used to occupy the site,’ he explained. ‘Our abbey church has been constructed over the top of it, a form of protection I suppose, but we make use of the crypt for occasional masses – there are thirty-six chapels, some with national associations and others dedicated to certain saints. We use them for baptisms and weddings and such. Also, at the moment, we have a sculptor working down here in the Lady Chapel. I’ll show you.’
‘He’s not still there, is he?’ Sullivan sounded shocked.
‘No, he’s been and gone. He has a studio somewhere,’ said Prior Tuck. ‘I locked all the doors after searching the place for the villain or other victims.’
‘That’s a good start. Now head wounds are rarely if ever deliberately self-inflicted except by firearms. And if it is murder, your sculptor will be in the frame as a suspect. Meanwhile he’ll have to find somewhere else to work. Does he work in stone, or wood? Or metal?’
‘Wood and stone, I understand.’
‘So he’ll have plenty of hammers and other tools that could inflict a nasty wound on someone’s skull. We need to talk to him – and seize his tools for forensic analysis. Unless he’s taken any with him. Or thrown them away. Now show me the body and be careful where you put your feet. Use the approach route that you did when you found him. It was you who found him, wasn’t it, Prior Tuck?’
‘I was advised where to look,’ affirmed the prior as he led us on the approach to the coffin curtain. In the near darkness, Prior Tuck told him about the curious note that had been left in the police office. ‘Because of it, I came and found the body.’
‘Well, you seem to have done all the right things….’
‘I used to be a police officer,’ Prior Tuck told him. ‘I didn’t last long as it didn’t take me many months to realize police work wasn’t for me, so I left.’
‘And became a monk?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, that’s an unusual career change! A lot of our senior officers should do the same, preferably joining a silent order. Which force were you in?’
‘Northumbria.’
‘Same as my boss. He was a DS in Northumbria and then transferred down here to the DI’s job.’
‘I might know him.’
‘You can’t miss him! He’s been with us in North Yorkshire ever since and was eventually promoted to the top CID job.’
‘What’s his name?’
‘Napier. Detective Chief Superintendent Roderick Napier, a big man in all respects, loud and forceful. He has the biggest feet in Christendom, I reckon. His shoes and boots have to be specially made. Size 16 or something like that.’
‘Now I do remember him,’ smiled Prior Tuck. ‘When I was a probationer constable at Hexham, I think he was DS in Whitley Bay. Our paths never crossed, but I remember the lads talking about the size of his feet.’
‘The whole force talks about the size of his feet – in fact, so did the whole of the Northumbrian population! Some of his regular customers called him Bigfoot or the Abominable Yeti. We just called him Large Sarge. Now he’s Super Large.’
‘Well, here we are,’ announced the prior as he approached the curtain. ‘We call this the Coffin Curtain because there’s a stone coffin on the plinth behind it. That curtain is always closed, as it is now. During the period of this abbey, I don’t think the room has ever been used for any other purpose although we’ve never locked it against visitors. If they look behind, they’ll see only an empty stone coffin on a stone block. There’s no chance of it being stolen.’
‘Except that now it’s occupied? Show me and mind where you put your feet.’
The prior drew aside the heavy curtain to reveal the coffin with its occupant lying there peacefully. From this angle, there was no sign of his injury. Detective Sergeant Sullivan stood silently with his chin cupped in his right hand as he studied the scene before him. He spent some time observing but not taking notes. No one interrupted; no one moved. Then he stepped forward carefully, peered into the head section of the coffin, and retreated.
‘There’s a fair bit of congealed blood about so I think you’re right about the head wound. And he didn’t get into that coffin by himself, did he? Somebody must have put him there. But doesn’t he look peaceful? That’s the influence of this place…. So where does that sculptor operate?’
He turned to leave and Prior Tuck allowed the curtain to fall back into its normal position. We led him towards Harvey’s work area near the Lady Chapel, and showed him the images that would eventually form the triptych.
‘What’s this chap’s name?’ he asked.
‘We don’t know, except that he calls himself Harvey.’
‘Harvey what?’
‘Sorry, I don’t know. Nobody knows.’
‘I’ve heard our boss tell tales about a villain called Harvey. I wonder if it’s the same chap? Anyway, he’s got a nice looking face for the Virgin Mary,’ commented Sullivan. ‘And I see he leaves some tools on the bench, so where does he keep the others?’
‘In there.’ Prior Tuck indicated a cupboard at the rear of the chapel.
‘Locked, is it? That cupboard?’
‘No. So far as I know, it’s never locked.’
‘Everyone here is very trusting, it’s not like this in most places. But it will be locked until further notice. You say the entire place can be secured?’
‘It can,’ nodded Prior Tuck. ‘The two outer doors can be secured from the inside with bolts as they are now and there are no windows. The only other entrance is the one we used, the stairs down from reception. And that door can be locked and the key made available only to nominated users – it will be kept either in reception or in the cop shop.’
‘Good. So as from now, this is a crime scene. I’m going to treat it as suspected murder until we get the result of the post-mortem. I’ll secure the crypt and retain the keys in the murder room. No one must be admitted until further notice, I can’t stress that too much. If there is a duplicate key, it needs to be removed from circulation. Immediately. Keep it in your cop shop and don’t let anyone have it.’
‘I understand,’ said Prior Tuck. ‘I’ll attend to it.’
‘Right. So that you are aware of what’s going to happen, listen to me. I’ll arrange for our official police photographer to come along as soon as she can and record the entire scene and I’ll ask a forensic patholo
gist to examine the body in situ before it is taken away for a post-mortem. The scene will be examined by our experts too, all as soon as possible. In the meantime I need an office from where I can make secure phone calls. When the teams of detectives start arriving, we’ll need a suitable room that will be transformed into a murder room. And we’ll need a big car-park. The room needs to be private and secure to accommodate about fifty officers and a load of equipment like computers, scanners and so forth. We have a mobile canteen so it’ll need to park somewhere.’
‘We’ve already identified a room you can use,’ smiled Prior Tuck.
‘Show it to me, but before we begin the heavy stuff, who is our victim?’
‘We have no idea,’ admitted Prior Tuck.
‘You mean he’s not known to anyone?’
‘Not to my knowledge. We haven’t made widespread enquiries at this stage but none of my personal contacts knows him. Somebody on the campus might know who he is once we start looking for witnesses.’
‘Well, when we get him into the morgue we’ll strip him and I’d be surprised if he doesn’t have a wallet or a diary. Or there’s always fingerprints and DNA. Leave that with us. Now, before things start to warm up, I could do with a nice cup of tea. Does an abbey like this treat guests to a cup of tea?’
‘We treat all our guests as if they are Christ,’ said Prior Tuck, gently.
‘Does that mean you can turn water into wine?’
‘No, but I can arrange for it to be turned into a cup of tea. Follow me.’
‘The abbot wants to see me,’ I told them. ‘I must leave you for the moment.’
‘We’ll be in the Postgate Room,’ Prior Tuck told me. ‘Shall I arrange a cup of tea for you, Nick?’
‘Thanks, but I might be some time. I’ll fix myself one as soon as I can.’
I made my way through the busy corridors and up the stairs to Abbot Merryman’s first-floor office. I had known him for some years, becoming firstly acquainted whilst he was the parish priest at Aidensfield when I arrived as the village constable. Mary had also worked at the college as a secretary which involved the abbey and the abbot. He kept fit by playing squash and taking long walks in the extensive grounds where, he had once told me, he would escape from his office to enjoy some uninterrupted time for thinking and planning. I entered his secretary’s office after knocking lightly. Mrs Sheila Grayson smiled a welcome.
‘He’s expecting you, Nick, I’ll tell him you’re here.’
I heard his response. ‘Send him in, Sheila, then no calls or callers for the next few minutes. I’m in a conference if anyone asks. I’ll let you know when I’m free.’
He offered me a chair in front of his desk as Sheila brought me a cup of coffee. I accepted it with pleasure.
‘Now, Nick, this is not a normal day by any means so perhaps, to start with, you can update me with what’s going on in the crypt?’
I explained everything and tried to inform him about the interruptions that would now bedevil both the abbey and the college.
‘Murder in the crypt, eh? It sounds like something from a crime novel or television series. Will you be able to stay to help us out? This is hardly a matter for us and I wonder if the regular police will want our input. But if they do want our monkstables to be usefully employed, we must oblige. I am sure there are ways in which we can assist. Now what I’m going to say to you is most important and confidential.’
‘You said it was about Simon Houghton?’
‘It is. So what is his situation at the moment? Can you tell me?’
‘Simon’s housemaster and the headmaster are organizing a co-ordinated search. His room is empty and it seems his bed was not slept in last night as the covers are still in place. If he is hiding or asleep somewhere on the campus, such a search seems an ideal task for them – although, Father Abbot, I fear the CID will include the missing boy as a suspect until proved otherwise. I have to say it may not be a coincidence that he has disappeared at this time. There’s also the worry that he could be a victim.’
The abbot looked worried as he said, ‘Yes, I am aware of that. Acutely aware, in fact. It’s for the latter reason that the headmaster has asked me to contact you. We may need some advice and practical help. I should add that this boy’s absence is much more serious than a pupil dodging lessons.’
‘So there’s something I should know?’
‘Yes there is, in the strictest of confidentiality.’
‘Have you called the county police? I mean officers from Ashfordly?’
‘No, we haven’t – there’s a problem, you see. Perhaps a better phrase would be “there is a matter of considerable delicacy” about the entire matter.’
‘That sounds ominous.’
‘It is and you’ll appreciate it is potentially extremely serious. As I am sure you know, we became aware of his absence during the first period this morning and the staff’s immediate action was to launch a search of the places he could normally be found, including his own room. We made good use of the teaching staff, his housemaster and the abbey constables, all of whom know their way around the college and also know the boy by sight. All this happened only minutes before I was told about the body in the crypt and there is still no trace of Simon. Am I right in thinking this is the current situation?’
‘That’s it, Father Abbot, but the body in the crypt is not Simon. The victim is a bearded fifty-year-old adult male, or so it would appear. The missing boy isn’t given to theatrical performances, is he? Or dressing up?’
‘On the contrary, he’s a quiet, shy individual of seventeen. Just before you came into the office, I heard that the search for Simon by our staff is on-going and has been extended over the whole campus – college and abbey combined, indoors and out, with no result as yet.’
‘I’m sure the monkstables will do a good job.’
‘I don’t doubt it. You’ll be pleased that Simon’s class teacher contacted one of the monkstables right at the outset – it shows they are being taken seriously. Prior Tuck and Father Stutely got things moving very swiftly.’
‘That’s the sort of challenge they need. A range of tasks and real-life problems to keep them busy. Incidentally, the CID have now arrived.’
‘I hope our search is quite independent of their investigation, Nick. We’re speaking to friends of the boy to see if they know why he might be absent or where he might be.’
‘That’s all very positive.’ I began to think like a police officer even though I had been retired for several years and wondered just how urgent this was and whether it could be linked to the body in the crypt. As he spoke, I knew that a simple case of a pupil dodging lessons rarely warranted a search party, but in this case there was much more to consider. The fact that a boy had disappeared from the prestigious and world-famous Maddleskirk College had to be treated seriously – many came from important or wealthy backgrounds, both nationally and internationally, consequently kidnapping for a ransom demand was always a possibility.
I asked, ‘Are we talking of a possible abduction here, Father Abbot? With a ransom?’
‘That must be a strong possibility, Nick. Yesterday, being Sunday, was the senior boys’ free day. They can play sport, go for walks and outings, go out with their parents, entertain visitors, take a bus to York or Scarborough, or go into Ashfordly. They can do more-or-less what they wish and our only demand is that they behave themselves and conduct themselves responsibly whilst away from the premises.’
‘I know they enjoy considerable freedom,’ I commented.
‘They do, but it’s for a purpose: the idea is to encourage them to take responsibility for their own actions.’
‘I wish all families would do that!’
‘Taking into account the number of boys who live here, we don’t do too badly. Not many ventured out yesterday due to the storms. Fortunately when such things happen, they can be otherwise occupied on campus.’
‘So by today – Monday morning – the missing lad should have been back
in his room and at his desk for the first lesson at quarter to nine? And that should have been after spending the night in his room and going down to the refectory for breakfast?’
‘That’s right, but it seems he wasn’t back for supper last night.’
‘Last night? I know his bed was made-up but he could have done that this morning. So you are suggesting he was away all night?’
‘That’s what I fear.’
‘So would his room have been checked last night? By his housemaster perhaps?’
‘Not necessarily, after all, he is seventeen. But if someone had reported his absence last night, we would have initiated enquiries straight away. But that didn’t happen. No one had any idea he hadn’t returned. It’s not unusual for pupils to miss supper when they return late after a day out. Most have enough pocket money to buy a meal, even if it’s only fast food.’
‘Are you aware of anything that might explain his absence? A letter perhaps? A sudden invitation? Problems at school? Bullying? A victim of child abuse? You’ve talked to friends and classmates?’
‘That’s being done as we speak. Boys do absent themselves without us alerting the whole world. This could be such an occasion, but I am not aware of any reason for Simon to absent himself.’
‘You seem to have done all the right things, Father. But can we be certain that he actually left the premises? Would he venture out during severe weather? And has he been seen talking to that bearded man who’s in the coffin?’
‘We can’t be absolutely sure about any of that. He could be still on the premises, just not in his usual haunts.’
‘In that case I’m sure the searchers will find him.’
‘I should stress that he’s not in any kind of trouble, Nick, if that’s what you’re implying. But, as I hinted earlier, there is an underlying problem and I must tell you I did not want to call in the county constabulary to deal with his absence. I know they are aware of it now – it is unavoidable in the circumstances – but I would like his absence to be kept very quiet and confidential. Most certainly I do not want it to reach the media.’
Murder at Maddleskirk Abbey Page 4