Murder at Maddleskirk Abbey

by Nicholas Rhea

  Blaketon called to the crowd, ‘Is the ambulance here?’

  Prior Tuck responded. ‘Yes, Mr Blaketon, it’s ready and waiting. Father Raymund needs to examine Simon before he’s moved. Is that feasible?’

  ‘I heard that,’ responded Father Will. ‘Before we do anything, we must shift the debris and move the tree trunk that’s pinning Simon down.’

  ‘I’ll send Father Miller along with Father Raymund.’

  ‘And I’ll send a couple of my men,’ added Joe Sampson. ‘The roofs and walls need to be checked.’

  ‘I’ll go in as well.’ The giant figure of Harvey the sculptor stepped forward. ‘I used to be a weight-lifter.’

  ‘Thanks, Harvey. There isn’t much room to manoeuvre in here, it will soon get very crowded,’ said Father Will.

  ‘We’ll take things step by step,’ responded the prior with a hint of strong confidence. ‘We mustn’t rush into this and create further problems. Joe, we need your men in there with a chainsaw, but it’s vital Simon is medically examined where he is. Monkstable Miller, Father Raymund and Harvey will get to you as soon as they can but don’t let the place get overcrowded.’

  We had all forgotten the time until I noticed Father Prior checking his watch.

  ‘We must finish before dark,’ was all he said to anyone who may have been listening and, as the volunteers began their tricky task, he moved closer to the dog van with its radio. Someone should be in overall control and I could see he was preparing to accept responsibility for the rescue operation. In the following few moments of radio silence, he asked, ‘Oscar, can you call up Father Will to check whether we really need to move that statue? Is it obstructing the exit route and are there any other objects that should be moved to allow the stretcher team to operate?’

  ‘Yes,’ replied Will who had heard Prior Tuck. ‘We need to move as much as possible, some of it only to one side to clear a path. The floors of all the passages are littered with debris – rocks, broken tree branches and the like, but if the rescuers have good torches, preferably hands-free, they will cope. We don’t need to move everything, but the rescuers will have to be careful where they put their feet.’

  ‘OK. The stretcher bearers will be despatched now. The stretcher has wheels on, it’s really a porter’s trolley but has handles at each end. A versatile thing.’

  Joe Sampson had been listening. ‘That will be fine. We have miners’ helmets with lights on them. We’ll have him out in no time.’

  ‘Father Mutch and Harvey will go ahead to deal with the fallen tree.’

  ‘We don’t want too many people down there … space will be limited.’

  Father Will’s voice, echoing slightly, responded. ‘We can cope, I think. There’s a surprising amount of room in some of the old passages.’

  As the rescue party assembled with their equipment, I glanced around at the crowd which had increased considerably since going-home time and noticed some familiar faces among them. One was Sister Mary who was in charge of the infirmary. She had a young girl at her side and they were standing near the ambulance; it had a team of two, the driver and an attendant, both of whom were qualified members of the infirmary staff. They were prepared to follow with one of their own stretchers if necessary.

  Prior Tuck addressed two monstables – Fathers Alban and John – and asked, ‘Are you prepared to go inside using the stretcher brought by Mr Blaketon? It’s dirty and dangerous in there and there are heavy obstructions to be moved first. We have a team ready to deal with whatever is found.’

  ‘We’ve all got a role to play, Father Prior. We will head for the casualty whilst the other teams deal with blockages and obstructions. I know it will be crowded, but we’ll manage.’

  ‘Fair enough.’ So Father Prior clarified the precise arrangements with the teams. As Simon’s rescue party moved towards the entrance of the labyrinth, another deep silence descended upon spectators, officials and monkstables. Everyone strained to listen to their progress and I noticed Father Prior moving among his posse of monkstables, thanking them for their role so far and updating them on current progress.

  He advised them that Simon would be first taken to the abbey’s own infirmary with some urgency to determine whether or not he would need hospital treatment. I watched the stretcher team and doctor vanish into the darkness but with such a strong in-house team, I felt the infirmary was perfectly capable of giving the necessary professional care. And there was no hint of another living casualty.

  I wandered towards the dog van where Ventress and Blaketon were firmly in command and thanked them on behalf of the abbey and college authorities. I felt sure there would be a more formal gesture of appreciation in due course. Undoubtedly there would be a feast of some kind organized by Father Prior – he could arrange a feast to celebrate almost any occasion and this would deserve a very special one!

  ‘They’re doing brilliantly, those monkstables,’ smiled Alf Ventress. ‘We trained them well, Oscar. To be honest, I would never have expected them to do all this.’

  I said my piece. ‘They are keen to undertake more realistic police work, something more challenging than booking litter louts or ensuring that visitors don’t stray into forbidden areas of the monastery. This has been a steep learning curve but they’ve coped well. Now it’s the turn of the medical experts.’

  Elaine maintained contact with Blaketon to provide a running commentary. It would take a while for the teams to reach her, but she and Father Will were caring for Simon, trying to keep him warm and talking to him even though he was unconscious. Many of the bystanders listened to the radio as they waited without much knowledge of what was really happening, and it was then that Prior Tuck clambered on to a safe high point of the ruin to address them.

  In a few moments of radio silence he thanked them for their interest and explained exactly what was happening, albeit without giving Simon’s full name. He merely referred to him as Simon, a senior pupil of the college and he reassured the crowd that the lad was alive but unconscious, and that his rescue was imminent. I thought it was a good move on the part of the prior.

  And as the people milled around, anxious to listen in to further bulletins or observe events, I found myself standing next to the young girl from the infirmary. I was not sure whether she knew me. I had recognized her as one of the village girls in Maddleskirk.

  ‘You’re Claire, aren’t you? I’ve seen you at mass in the village. You work in the infirmary?’

  ‘Yes, I’m on work experience. You’re Mr Rhea, aren’t you?’ she responded. ‘When I was little you once gave a talk when I was at school when you told us about the work of a village policeman.’

  ‘I’m delighted you remember. What do you think of all this?’

  ‘It’s amazing, all these people and how they all want to help, those men from the building site, the monks, ordinary people coming here after work….’

  As we spoke, Prior Tuck joined us and smiled a welcome at Claire.

  ‘You know Claire, do you, Father?’ I asked. ‘She’s on work experience at the infirmary at the moment.’

  ‘I’ve been meaning to have a chat with you, Claire,’ smiled Prior Tuck. ‘But other things got in the way!’

  ‘Was it important? I’m with the ambulance for this rescue.’ She sounded proud to be present. ‘I’m pleased I wasn’t with Simon when it happened.’

  ‘Did he ask you?’ I put to her.

  She blushed just a little and smiled. ‘He wanted me to go for a walk with him yesterday, up to St Valentine’s holy well. He said it was all right because I don’t work here as I’m still in sixth form. But I couldn’t go because we had a family baptism at my aunt’s house and I had to go there.’

  ‘And what better introduction can there be, eh?’ beamed Prior Tuck. ‘It involves more than sticking plasters on sore places, or bandaging schoolboys who’ve cut themselves with their first attempt at shaving.’

  ‘I’m really enjoying it all.’ We could see she meant what she said, then s
he added quietly, ‘I do hope they get him out.’

  ‘They will,’ I assured her.

  Then Father Prior surprised me. He smiled at Claire and said, ‘So how’s the Virgin Mary this afternoon?’

  Claire blushed. ‘You know?’

  ‘I recognize your face, Claire. Harvey has replaced the third part of his triptych, the pattern he’s made until he completes the entire piece in oak. It’s got your face on it.’

  ‘He told me not to tell anyone.’

  ‘Then I will not!’ smiled Prior Tuck. ‘It will be our secret – shared only by my very discreet friend, Mr Rhea.’

  ‘Now I know why Simon liked visiting the triptych! So did other ladies from the infirmary model for it?’ I asked.

  She nodded. ‘I’m Mary when she is nursing the crucified Jesus; the other two scenes are one with Jesus on the cross between the two thieves with Mary watching and another when she sees the Roman soldier plunge the spear into Jesus’s side.’

  ‘So you modelled for Harvey?’

  ‘It wasn’t really modelling. Most of the carving had been done and it didn’t take long for Harvey to put my face onto Mary – there was a nice face there already but he adjusted her a little – changed the eyelids and lips, made me smile, moved her hands a wee bit. I held a doll so he could get her hands looking right … all very small adjustments. But he was so tender, so caring. He’s the first sculptor I’ve sat for but if they’re all like him, I’d do it again. He’s a lovely man even if he looks a bit fierce.’

  ‘So he never alarmed you? Threatened you?’

  ‘No, not at all, he was so kind. I know he looks big and frightening but he asked me on the spur of the moment once when he saw me walking to work. He passed me on the road then came back to talk to me.’

  ‘Weren’t you worried at getting such a request?’

  ‘I was at first, then he said he would ring my parents to explain to them and also he’d ring Sister Mary to ask for time off work for me.’

  ‘So why did Harvey not want you to tell anyone?’ asked Prior Tuck.

  ‘He wanted it to be a secret until the final work is unveiled. We sitters will be his special guests.’

  ‘It all sounds very pleasant!’

  ‘It was, and he paid me a fee, Mr Rhea, with half of it – fifty pounds – when I agreed to sit for him and the other half to be paid if I keep the secret until the unveiling ceremony. I haven’t kept it secret though, have I?’

  ‘It’s our secret, Claire. Now, can I ask you one thing?’

  ‘Yes?’ She had a frown on her face.

  ‘Where is Harvey’s studio?’

  ‘I don’t know, and that is being honest, Mr Rhea. It’s somewhere deep in one of the local forests, he drove in circles on twisting roads through trees all looking alike, then said it was an old ice-house that he uses from time to time, but it is not his permanent studio. I could never find it again. Really I couldn’t.’

  ‘Does he live there?’

  ‘Not permanently, only camps there when he’s working nearby. Once this work is complete, he says he’ll move on somewhere else and close the ice-house.’

  As I was trying to visualize the whereabouts of the ice-house, my thoughts were interrupted by activity on Blaketon’s radio.

  ‘Sierra Two Five to base. Rescue party now at the scene. Simon is alive but still unconscious. We are cutting up and moving the heavy tree before he can be freed – that’s being done now. We have lights and a stretcher. Over and out.’

  ‘Thank you Sierra Two Five,’ acknowledged Blaketon, and everything went silent again.

  Eight or nine minutes later, the radio burst into life again.

  ‘Sierra Two Five to base. Tree removed. Access to patient now available. The men are leaving the scene and the casualty does not appear to have any injuries other than abrasions. No broken bones according to Dr Raymund. But he remains unconscious. He is being placed on the stretcher to be carried out for transfer to the ambulance.’

  Once again cheers rose from the assembled spectators, then we heard Elaine’s voice once more, this time louder. ‘Please keep all exits clear and have the ambulance conveniently positioned for a smooth journey to the infirmary. Over and out.’

  Prior Tuck burst into action and called, ‘All available constables please prepare to ensure a free and safe transfer of the patient to the ambulance, and then ensure his route to the infirmary is clear.’

  His team of monkstables responded immediately and cleared bystanders from any places that might produce an obstruction. The mud-covered tree-shifters, except for Father Mutch Miller, emerged to cheers from the crowd and within quarter of an hour or so, the stretcher-bearing party emerged into the fading light covered in mud and dirt as more cheers rose from the bystanders. The ambulance waited with its engine running. Father Mutch had remained behind to clear debris from the path of the stretcher-bearers and he wanted to do something with the heavy stone statue. The wheels on Joe’s trolley had proved ineffective in the deep mud.

  ‘I must go.’ Claire ran towards the waiting vehicle as the stretcher-bearers eased their unconscious patient into the ambulance.

  As Claire leapt into the rear to be at the side of Simon Houghton, Father Raymund followed, then the doors closed and the ambulance swept away with its blue light flashing. I now realized there really was some kind of relationship between Simon and Claire. I wondered if it was puppy love or something more serious. But it was truly no concern of mine.

  As the ambulance sped smoothly across the valley towards the campus, Father Mutch and Harvey emerged carrying between them the mud-covered statue of a handsome youth. They received a mighty cheer too as we all crowded around to look at it.

  ‘Who is it?’ I asked. ‘It’s not St Luke, is it?’

  ‘No, it’s St Valentine,’ said Prior Tuck. ‘See, he is depicted with an invalid child at his feet, one of the many saints called Valentine. The old chapel near the holy well was dedicated to one of them and the site used to attract young lovers on pilgrimages. Who does he belong to now?’

  ‘Probably the owner of Ashwell Priory,’ I smiled. ‘But I think the abbey should care for him until the matter is resolved.’

  With the drama over, the bystanders drifted away. Elaine and her dogs left the scene after a hearty round of applause. I remained with Prior Tuck as his monkstables assembled to be formally dismissed. He thanked them all for their work and announced they could return to their normal duties, adding that he would organize a celebratory feast once this was all over.

  ‘I’ll pencil it in my diary,’ he promised us all. ‘I’ll aim for 26 October which is the feast day of two local saints, Chad and Cedd. Two for the price of one,’ he laughed. ‘That might mean an extra bottle of wine or two.’

  Whilst he was attending to his own tasks, we heard that Claire was paying very close attention to the patient now partially under her care. She remained at his side that evening, not wishing to claim she was working overtime but merely tending a friend. When Simon opened his eyes, they settled upon Claire and she took his hand. He mouthed the word, ‘Hello, Claire’, and she smiled as she repeated his name with tears in her eyes.

  ‘He’s fine. He’s a fit, strong young man, well able to cope with all this,’ Father Raymund announced, after carrying out a detailed examination. ‘He has a lot of bruises and abrasions but nothing broken. It’s nothing that some good food, warmth, a relaxed sleep and some loving care and attention won’t cure. I’ll keep him in here for a few days to recuperate.’

  And so the day’s excitements drew to a close and I found myself the owner of a statue of St Valentine which, I felt, should rightly stand near the shores of the pond in the woods. Maybe I could rebuild the chapel and encourage pilgrims to return to the holy well? Not knowing of my intentions, Father Mutch and Harvey said they would carry it into the crypt where it could stand until it was cleaned and a decision made about its future. I wondered if the crypt had been reopened yet – I doubted it. Forensic examination o
f the scene of a crime always took a long time.

  As I walked back to my car, I heard a voice behind me. ‘Nick.’ It was the abbot. ‘I’ve been looking for you. I just wanted to thank you for today’s efforts. It’s been quite exciting and your monkstables acquitted themselves very well. I think we may also have a budding romance – and you are the proud owner of a statue of St Valentine. How very symbolic!’

  ‘In view of what’s happened today, Father Abbot, I think he should stand in the hallway of the infirmary! There’s ample room. He’d be better placed there than shut away in the crypt.’

  ‘Now that is a good idea. In art, you know, Valentine is shown with disabled children and is also invoked against various illness and fainting attacks. Not only that, he is the patron saint of young people and engaged couples. So, yes, I will have him cleaned and positioned in the infirmary. We could dedicate the infirmary to him. Unless you want to rebuild the chapel on the hill near the holy well?’

  ‘I can’t see that happening in the foreseeable future, Father. The infirmary is the right place.’

  ‘I agree, and I hope Claire and Simon recognize the symbolism in the gesture. And, you know, I wonder what would happen if they remained together as a couple, and he fulfils his destiny? Could she be a future Queen of Poland?’

  ‘That’s a question I can’t – and daren’t – answer, Father. But one thing does strike me: we haven’t found the lost statues of St Luke and his winged ox. Who or what are they?’

  ‘I’ll tell you one day when we have some free time, perhaps at an assembly of the monkstables. The missing statues might be buried in Ashwell Priory and after all today’s excavations and activity, our monkstables might care to look for them. And there is another question, Nick.’

  ‘Which is?’