‘Take a day off, Ian, for Christ’s sake,’ said Pratt.
‘Thanks Brian, I think I will,’ said Mills.
They laughed, downed their tea and walked to the training room where the rest of the staff were assembled. As Cooper cast his eyes around the room, he saw Linda Collins, who, for once, was wearing a uniform, but even in an outfit of blue serge, she still managed to look chic and beautiful. They exchanged smiles.
‘Morning all. You’re in uniform, I see, Miss Collins. We’re not losing you, I hope?’ Oh dear, that did sound cheesy.
‘No, governor. I’ve got to go to a colleague’s long-service award ceremony at the town hall this morning. It’s a long-standing commitment.’
‘Good. Right, let’s get on then,’ said Cooper, hoping that he hadn’t embarrassed himself. ‘For those of you who might not be aware, we now have a name for our victim, as provided by Father O’Leary, the local parish priest at St Saviour’s. It was Irma Caro, apparently. And if it wasn’t for you, Jane, suggesting that we go and see him, we wouldn’t have got that. So, thanks and well done.’
An acknowledging murmur of “well done” went around the room. Jane curtsied and smiled.
‘Sergeant Mills took the statement. Ian, if you would just read it out loud, please.’
Mills duly complied. ‘We still have a gap to fill in respect of the journey taken by Sister Margaret to the point where she arrived at the parochial house, so I had Linda go back and make further enquiries. Mrs. Maloney, the housekeeper, is ninety percent sure that the sister arrived by taxi, but she can’t remember which firm the cab came from,’ said Mills.
‘Surely the driver will remember her. We just have to find him,’ said Jane Stewart. ‘I mean, it’s not every day that a cab driver picks up a nun, is it?’
‘No. You’re right. Ian, will you raise an action, please, to have all cab companies in the town visited?’
‘I must say that I’m intrigued by this Cardinal Pat O’Mara bloke of the Special Assignments Unit of the Vatican. He sounds like something from the Spanish Inquisition, doesn’t he? What does the term “Special Assignments” mean anyway?’ asked Pratt.
‘And does it involve torture?’ said Rogers.
‘Absolutely, and secret activities of an unspeakable nature,’ added Mills.
‘Well, for heaven’s sake, what’s so special about converting to Catholicism?’ said DC Rogers. ‘I mean, who gives a shit about that, anyway? It’s all one big fairy story.’
‘Language, Rogers!’ said Cooper. ‘Have a bit of respect. Ladies present.’ He nodded towards Jane Stewart and Linda Collins, who were standing at the back of the room, grinning sheepishly.
Mills continued, ‘It’s good we now have a proper name for our victim, though. How are we spelling that?’
Pratt searched around for a stick of chalk and wrote the name on the blackboard.
‘That’s her name. Irma Caro, or at least that’s what Father O’Leary was told, said Pratt, ‘Hopefully, we can rely on it.’
‘We haven’t much choice but to run with it,’ said Cooper. ‘I suppose it does give us a bit more to go to Immigration with. They ought to have details of her entry to the UK. After all, nun or no nun, she is a foreign national. Although, I’ve no idea what details a nun would have to show on her passport. Another job for somebody, Ian.’
‘Don’t nuns get paid, governor?’ said Ian Mills, thinking out loud.’ Surely Monsignor Crecy’s people in London must have provided her with the rail fare to get to Colchester, at least.’
‘Well, Ian, you’d like to think so, but I wouldn’t bet on it. Maybe Lord Roding can fill us in with the details about her rail fare. As for her funding, well, I think we’ll have to speak to the Vatican about that one.’
‘Not sure they’ll be in the phone book,’ said Rogers, flippantly.
‘Another silly comment from you, Rogers, and you can be the first to go back on shift work,’ said Cooper.
‘Sorry, governor.’ Rogers resolved to keep his mouth shut.
‘OK, if that’s all for now folks, you will be pleased to know that earlier the sergeants and I had a meeting during which we decided that the team will all take tomorrow off as a rest day. You’ve all worked hard. Let’s try to get as much done as we can today, and we’ll start fresh on Monday morning.’
The troops murmured their approval and the briefing was ended. Cooper and Pratt left the room and the remainder of the team stayed at their desks.
‘Tom, come with me. I want a word.’ Mills led Rogers into the sergeant’s office and told him to shut the door.
‘Tom, why don’t you try to engage your brain before opening your mouth?’ said Mills. ‘You’re going to drop yourself in the shit if you carry on making stupid comments all the time.’
‘Sorry, Sarge.’
‘Your work’s good. It’s just your silly attitude. You don’t have to act like the office clown. I know the governor has his eye on you. Just wind your neck in.’
‘Sorry, Sarge.’
‘Anyway, the boss had his ear bent by Mr Stockwell about that case of chicken rustling, from Councillor Davis’ allotment. That’s your job, isn’t it?’
‘Yes, Sarge.’
‘Right. Well, I want to see that crime report on my desk within the next hour as he wants it by close of play.’
‘Yes, Sarge. If he wants to see it, how many copies do I need?’
‘One top copy, one for CID admin and one for you. Now get on with it and think about what I’ve just said.’
Rogers left the sergeant’s office and, before returning to his desk, he walked to the admin cupboard. He collected a typewriter and placed it on the desk in front of him. Reaching into the filing cabinet, he selected the necessary blank forms and carbon paper, which he shuffled and carefully wound onto the carriage. ‘Right. Name: DC 35 Rogers.’ The details were keyed onto the page with the slow and deliberate use of one finger. Rogers also displayed an irritating tendency to mouth the words as he typed them.
Linda Collins, who was sitting at the adjacent desk smiled to herself. She was skilled in the arts of shorthand and typing, but she wasn’t about to interfere. Over the next half hour Tom Rogers slaved away on the machine, gradually completing the various fields, including a lengthy explanation of the enquiries carried out with the local traders. On completion, he gave the report an extra careful read. He was satisfied and not a little pleased with his efforts. He removed the pages from the typewriter and examined them.
‘Oh, bollocks!’
Linda looked up, ‘What’s the matter Tom?’
‘I put the sodding carbon paper in the wrong way around. What a waste of time. I’ll have to do it all again.’
She laughed heartily, ‘Give it here, Tom. I’ll do for you. We don’t want you getting done for “wasting police time”, do we?’
13
DAY THIRTEEN
Sunday 24th July 1949
Rest Day.
14
DAY FOURTEEN
Monday 25th July 1949
Cooper could hear banging on his bedroom door. Bloody hell! What time is it? He looked at the alarm clock, 8:40am, shit! I knew I shouldn’t have had that drink last night. It was obvious to him that he’d forgotten to set the alarm clock.
‘You in there, Alby?’ shouted Pearl, accompanied by the barking of an excited Errol.
‘Yes. Thanks, Pearl. I’ll be out in a minute.’
He thanked God, that Pearl was taking an unhealthy interest in him, otherwise he might have slept on until lunch time. Cooper quickly grabbed his dressing gown, shrugged it on and unlocked the bedroom door in one swift movement. He washed and shaved in record time, dressed, and left the front door by 8.55am, to the disappointment of Errol, who was denied his morning rabbit hunt.
He had felt better, but he was a “trained soldier” and knew that a
little Scotch from his desk draw would set him right. Besides, he had high hopes for the day and was eager to get to work. As far as the press leaks were concerned, he would learn, one way or the other, whether they had been offering their bait to the right suspect. The answer was likely to be on the front page of that day’s edition of the Recorder.
As Cooper strode along the High Street, he avoided Sadie’s and Fred’s Café, in case they had read the paper already and would want to ask questions of him. He didn’t want to get into that conversation. Furthermore, he simply didn’t have the time.
As he reached the Castle Park gates, the answer to the question was made clear. Written across the news vendor’s billboard were the words, “Nun Murderer Arrested”.
Charlie, the paperman, spoke before Cooper could open his mouth, ‘Morning, Alby. Been busy I see.’
Cooper was non-committal, ‘Yes, Charlie. We’re getting there, mate.’
Charlie handed Cooper a copy of the paper. ‘Have this one on me.’
Cooper thanked him and carried on along the pavement, reading as he went. At first glance, he could see that the necessary ingredients were there. He was thrilled to bits. “Bernard Connelly of Braintree” was named and the author was Gladys Munson.
As he arrived at the front entrance of the police station Cooper saw that Ted Glover, the station sergeant was behind the counter. He was vigorously waving a copy of the Recorder.
‘Morning governor. Seen today’s edition of the Recorder?’
‘Yes, thanks, Ted. I’ve got a copy already.’
‘Front office is getting inundated with calls from the papers asking to speak to the senior investigating officer. We need to know what to tell them.’
Cooper took an executive decision. ‘I think for now, Ted, we’ll just have to tell them that a press statement will be given in due course.’
‘Thanks, Alby. Leave it with me.’
Cooper made his way up to the CID, called Brian and Ian into his office and shut the door.
They and the other members of the team had been completely unaware of the fact that there were moves afoot regarding the so-called “press leaks”.
Cooper gave his sergeants a brief outline of the situation, and told them that everything would later be explained in more detail to both themselves and the team. Cooper was about to make his way to the town hall to see Stockwell.
There now being something of a distraction, Pratt postponed the daily briefing.
After a couple of hours had passed with no news, curiosity got the better of Brian Pratt and he went off to locate his boss, tracking him down to the Superintendent’s office. As he entered the management suite he was greeted by the sight of a tearful Mavis Dockree, who was emptying the personal effects from her desk under the supervision of Sergeant Cecily White (of the Women and Children Team). Mavis, the woman who had so often told herself that she held a position of power, had finally been put in her place. She had been suspended from her post and she made for a pathetic sight as she got her things together. Mavis was about to be unceremoniously escorted from the building.
Before Pratt could knock on the door of Stockwell’s office, he was intercepted by Cooper, who led him down to the town hall canteen. He explained that, in about an hour, and once Mavis had left, they would have a meeting with the superintendent to discuss a strategy for managing the press.
Around midday, they found themselves sitting across the table from Tom Stockwell. There were teas and coffee on the table in front of them. Cooper wondered where these had come from now that Mavis had “had her arse kicked”. Stockwell was clearly pleased about the outcome, but he wore a look of resignation on his face and was obviously conflicted.
‘Very well done, Albert,’ said Stockwell, congratulating Cooper on a successful operation. ‘Thank you, sir.’
‘It is a sad situation, though, all the same. She’s been with me for a few years now, and she was good at her job. But we can’t have that kind of thing. A complete breach of confidentiality. It is corrupt practice, plain and simple.’
‘Absolutely, sir.’
‘Albert, you explained the prima facie case to me, which was enough for us to take the correct action in relation to Mrs Dockree. There are just a few things that I wanted to satisfy myself on,’ declared Stockwell. ‘So, let’s go through it again, shall we?’
Cooper gave a full summary of the evidence against Mavis.
‘The meeting between DI Brown and myself was taped to record the content so if there is any argument it could be checked and compared against the detail in the Recorder.’
‘That’s good practice. Well done,’ said Stockwell.
‘During her lunch hour on Friday, Mavis was followed to the Home and Colonial shop in Head Street, where she was seen to meet another woman to whom she handed an envelope. The other woman was then followed to the office of the East Anglian Recorder, where she was seen to enter the building. She remained there until about 6.15pm, after which she walked to a house on the outskirts of the town. We later ascertained that this is the home of Gladys Munson, who is the crime reporter on the Recorder. That, taken together with the dissemination of the facts of our “sensitive meeting”, leaves little room for doubt that Mavis was the source of our leaks.’
‘Of course, Albert, it will be a matter for the Headquarters Complaints and Discipline Department to make a case for the dismissal of Mavis. It’s bound to be endorsed by the chief constable. But, in my view, there’s no benefit in taking her before a court of law. I have already spoken to the chief and he agrees with me. He also takes the view that it would be counterproductive to try to make a case against Munson. The papers would just construe it as the police interfering with the workings of a free press, and would, very likely, create a political maelstrom. No, it’s better to face down the press in a conference, deny knowledge of any suspect called Bernard Connelly, and let Munson suffer the embarrassment and judgement of her peers.’
‘Part of the story we used was that Connelly was a gravedigger at St Saviour’s. Do you have any concerns about the press bothering Father O’Leary at all, sir?’
‘No. No concerns at all. I don’t think they’ll bother him, Albert. And even if they do, worse things have happened in Christendom. It might just make the Church cooperate and recognise the victim, as one of their own. Our aim was to plug the leak of confidential information and you have been successful in achieving that objective. I am pleased that you have got to the bottom of the problem and so is the chief constable. I shall be speaking to Superintendent Egerton at Braintree, to pass on my thanks to DI Brown.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ said Cooper.
‘Albert, there was something else that I have been meaning to speak to you about. If you would leave us for a few minutes, Sergeant.’
‘I’ll go back to the office, sir, and meet you there.’ Pratt withdrew.
‘Oh, and Brian,’ said Cooper, calling after him, ‘please don’t say anything about this to the team, for now.’
‘Right you are, governor.’
Pratt closed the door behind him.
‘Albert, I wanted to speak to you about Linda Collins. I should have done so earlier. The fact is, she’s my niece.’
‘I know she is, sir.’
‘Really? But how?’
‘My aunt Sadie is a friend of your sister. Apparently, they went to school together. She’s been on at me about Linda for a few weeks now, only she got her name wrong and was calling her Brenda. She does like to matchmake on my behalf, and it was only when I pushed her on the detail that she came up with the surname Collins, that her mother’s maiden name was Stockwell, and she had a brother called Tom. I finally made the connection and it has left me with something of a dilemma, so I had to speak to Linda about it. She was a bit embarrassed.’
‘I’m sure she was,’ said Stockwell.
He stood, gazing ou
t of the window, and was silent for a few seconds pondering over his words. He turned and looked Cooper in the eye. ‘Albert, I really must apologise for putting you in that position. Her mother made mention of Linda’s aspirations and I must admit that I rather took it upon myself to give her this opportunity. On reflection, it was rather unprofessional of me.’
‘To be fair though, sir, Linda has made a very good start.’
‘That’s nice to hear. And your aunt Sadie was matchmaking, was she?’
‘Yes, sir. She was, I’m afraid.’
‘Don’t be afraid, Albert. You’re a single man, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Well, what do you make of Miss Collins? Professionally, I mean.’
‘She’s very capable, conscientious and bright, sir. I’m pleased to have her on the enquiry. I was a bit worried about the possibility of the others finding out and maybe thinking that she had been underhand in not telling them that she’s your niece. Particularly with the problem of the leaks. Personally, I now think it would be an excellent idea to call a meeting and tell the others, just to deal with the elephant in the room, so to speak.’
‘I agree. At least, that way she’s being open. After that she will just have to survive on the power of her own personality.’
‘Would be best, sir. She’s well liked and I’m sure that the others would appreciate her candour.’
‘Then that’s what you should do, Albert. As for matchmaking, I know that you are a man of discretion. I’ll leave it to the pair of you to decide whether you are compatible. Just don’t let it have a negative effect on your day-to-day work or I’ll have to think about moving one of you.’
‘Yes, sir. Understood.’
As Cooper made his way back down the High Street, he had an extra spring in his step, but he also felt that it would be wise to tread carefully with Linda Collins and take a slow approach to any personal relationship. Though, he wasn’t at all sure that he could manage it.
*
Devotion to Murder Page 13