Unholy Murder

Chapter Twenty-two

While Boon phoned Julie Dorton from Barnes’s office, Jane went to the incident room to get her bag and coat. A few detectives were setting up their desks and others were looking at the photographs and maps on the walls. She overheard one on the phone to his wife, telling her he probably wouldn’t be home until late. She picked up the phone on an empty desk in the corner of the room and rang Nick’s office.

‘Hi, it’s me. How did it go with your dad?’

‘He’ll survive,’ he said.

‘Look, I don’t think I’ll be able to see you tonight. I’ve got to interview someone and I don’t know how long it’s going to take. My DCI wants me to report back to the incident room afterwards. I’ve a suspicion he’ll want us all in early morning as well. I don’t want to disturb you, so I’ll stay the night at mine tonight if that’s—’

‘Yeah, fine. Do what’s best for you,’ Nick replied.

‘Are you OK?’ Jane asked, bemused by his off-hand tone.

‘Yeah, shouldn’t I be?’

Jane couldn’t understand why he was talking to her like this. ‘Have I done something to upset you?’

There was a brief pause. ‘No, it’s not you. My dad can be pretty exhausting at times.’

‘I understand. Look, it might be late, but I’ll come round to your house when I finish. We can cheer each other up,’ she said.

‘If it’s all the same, I’d like to stay at my dad’s tonight and keep an eye on him.’

Jane was taken aback. ‘Right, fine... I understand.’ She didn’t see Boon approaching.

‘Mrs Dorton’s happy to speak with us. You good to go, sarge?’ he asked.

She put her hand over the mouthpiece. ‘Can’t you see I’m on the phone?’ she said tersely. ‘I’ve got to go. I’ll speak to you tomorrow.’ She waited for a reply then realised Nick had already put the phone down.

Driving to Julie Dorton’s, Jane couldn’t help but feel concerned about her brief conversation with Nick. She knew he was close to his father, but his curt replies were out of character. She racked her brain but couldn’t think of anything she’d done that could have upset him. She wondered if the whole business of the nun’s murder, the site being closed and his father’s illness was getting to him more than he was letting on.

‘You all right, sarge?’ Boon asked, but she didn’t answer. ‘Hello, Boon to DS Tennison, are you receiving... over?’ he joked.

She bit back a sharp reply. ‘Sorry, I was thinking about what we need to ask Julie Dorton.’

‘I was surprised Barnes never had a pop at me about Becky Rogers being at the press conference,’ Boon remarked.

‘I think his mind was on more important things. Personally, I was quite impressed with her. She’s dogged and she certainly speaks her mind.’

‘Not dissimilar to you then, sarge,’ Boon grinned.

‘Don’t be cheeky,’ Jane said.

‘Dorton’s house should be just up here on the left,’ Boon said as they drove along Hurst Road.

Julie Dorton was an attractive, fresh-faced woman in her late forties, with dark curly auburn hair and bright eyes. She was wearing a dark blue hospital dress and a nurse’s belt around her slim waist. Jane noticed she also wore wedding and engagement rings.

‘I’ve not long been back from work. Please come through to the living room,’ she said nervously.

‘Are you all right, Mrs Dorton?’ Jane asked.

‘I just watched the evening news. I think I know who the nun is, but... it just doesn’t seem possible she was murdered.’ Her voice trembled. ‘The artist’s impression they showed looked familiar, but I wasn’t sure it was her. Then when they showed a picture of the cross with the initials on it...’ Julie started to cry.

Jane and Boon looked at each other, realising this was a significant development. Boon got out his notebook and pen, having agreed that Jane would interview Julie and he would take notes to be made into a full statement later. Jane sat next to Julie on the settee.

‘Who do you think MB is, Julie?’ Jane asked, handing her a tissue.

‘Sister Melissa... but we all called her Missy.’

‘Do you know her surname?’

‘It was Bailey.’

‘And you were at the convent together?’ Jane asked.

Julie blew her nose and nodded. ‘She was my best friend.’

‘I know this must be difficult for you, Julie, but I need to ask you some questions about Missy... is that OK?’

‘Yes. I want to help... but I can’t believe she was murdered... I thought Missy left the convent because she’d had enough of the way it was run. Do you really think it’s her body you found?’

‘We don’t know for certain yet. But with what you’ve just told us, it’s an even stronger possibility. When did you first meet Missy? If you can recall any dates, it would be very helpful.’

‘We joined the convent as novices in February 1953 and shared a room together. I was nineteen and Missy was eighteen. We felt segregated from some of the older sisters, who stuck to a strict religious routine and rarely spoke to us younger novices. Missy and I got on well and quickly became close friends.’ Julie undid the top button of her dress and withdrew a cross on a chain. She took it off and handed it to Jane.

‘We were given these when we took our final vows. Mine is the same as Missy’s, apart from the initials, of course.’

‘Can you recall if there was anyone else at the convent with the initials MB?’ Jane asked.

‘There were a couple of sisters called Mary. I think one’s surname was Brown; the other one I can’t remember. Mind you, they were both a lot older and probably took their vows in the 1940s.’

‘Do you know what part of the country Missy was from?’

‘She told me her parents emigrated to Canada just after the war. She came back to the UK to become a nun when she turned eighteen.’

‘Do you know where they lived in Canada?

‘Whenever we said how cold it was in winter, Missy would laugh and say, “Try living in Kingston, Ontario. It’s so cold you poop snowflakes.”’ Julie smiled at the memory.

‘Did she talk about her parents by name? What they did for a living or anything like that?’ Jane asked, knowing she would need to trace them.

‘I’m sorry. I don’t know their names. I recall her saying something about her dad being a university teacher.’

‘Do you know when Missy’s birthday was?’ Jane asked.

‘The fifth of August. I remember making a cake for her twenty-seventh birthday... just before she left.’

‘Can you give me a bit more detail on why you think Missy left the convent?’

‘She couldn’t stand how the children were treated by Mother Superior and Sister Margaret. At the time I thought it had been eating away at her so much she just decided to walk out the door one night and never return.’

‘Annette Gorman told us about some of Mother Superior’s horrendous punishments and assaults on the kids,’ Boon said.

‘I know. I spoke with her earlier. Everything Annette told you is the truth.’

‘I don’t for one second doubt her, or you, Julie,’ Jane assured her.

‘Annette also told me about the article in the News Shopper. I read it myself. The bit about the bodies of murdered children being buried at the convent is utter nonsense.’

‘I know,’ Jane said, ‘but as investigators we can’t totally ignore it as a possibility.’

‘In fairness, Mother Superior wasn’t abusive when Missy and I first joined the convent,’ Julie said. ‘Although she used her wooden ladle to smack the children, it was in a gentle good-natured way — a light tap on the head or back of the hand, nothing vicious. She even reigned in Sister Margaret when she saw her being overzealous in her punishments.’

‘So what happened to change everything?’ Jane asked.

‘The convent was getting rundown and in constant need of repair, which was costly for the diocese. Mother Superior heard a rumour they were thinking of selling it to raise funds. The convent was her life. She became depressed then started drinking heavily.’

‘How did you know Mother Superior was drinking?’ Jane asked.

‘She’d always liked a tipple, but her drinking got worse and she was often drunk, particularly of an evening. She stank of alcohol, slurred her words and staggered about. We suspected her booze was hidden in the chapel crypt as she spent so much time down there. The more she drank, the more bad-tempered and aggressive she became, often lashing out at the children and us for really trivial transgressions of the rules. Sister Margaret used it to her advantage and became Mother Superior’s self-appointed deputy. Together they started to run the convent with a rod of iron.’

‘I take it that upset Missy.’

‘It upset many of us. Missy was quite strong-willed and often spoke her mind. She told Mother Superior and Sister Margaret their physical abuse of the children made them live in constant fear and misery.’

‘What did they say to that?’

‘Missy told me they laughed at her. Mother Superior started to bully Missy and constantly punish her for trivial things that didn’t really matter.’

‘How did she punish her?’

‘She gave her the worst chores, stopped her writing home and generally made her life a misery, day in and day out.’

‘How did Missy react?’

‘She sort of took it on the chin and accepted her punishments. I know it must have upset her, but Missy was tough; she wasn’t going to let them break her down. Sometimes I could see she was fighting back the tears. I’d ask her if she was all right. She’d smile and say, “Don’t worry about me... I’m fine.”’

‘Can you tell me anything else about what made Missy so angry?’

‘When Sister Margaret cut Annette’s face with her cane, Missy was incensed. She told me she was going to report Sister Margaret and Mother Superior to the bishop. I’m ashamed to say I tried to dissuade her. I was afraid they would make Missy’s life even more of a misery... and take their anger out on the children as well,’ Julie added, welling up.

‘You mustn’t blame yourself for anything that happened at the convent,’ Jane said. ‘I understand why you were scared. Did Missy tell the bishop?’

‘I don’t think so, because Mother Superior and Sister Margaret didn’t change their ways. I think Missy also thought in the end it would be a waste of time.’

‘Why?’ Jane asked.

‘Because Mother Superior was good at putting on an act. She was ambitious. She often said she would become the next Superior General and have a private audience with the pope—’

‘Sorry to interrupt, but what’s a Superior General?’ Jane asked.

‘It’s also known as Mother General. Basically, they oversee all the Sisters of Mercy convents. Mother Superior was determined to achieve her goal and make sure the bishop and other visitors were properly impressed when they came to the convent.’

‘How did she do that?’ Boon asked. ‘Considering how badly the children were treated.’

‘There was a room in the convent that was always kept locked by Mother Superior. Inside was everything a child could wish for: a lovely playroom full of toys, books and dolls, all donated by a local Catholic charity. She only opened the playroom on days that dignitaries like the bishop or other officials visited the convent. They would see a room full of happy, smiling children and walk away with a false impression all was well and she was wonderful. As soon as they were gone, the children were marched out and the door was locked. Any child who resisted was given a whack on the head by Mother Superior with her wooden ladle or caned on the backside by Sister Margaret.’

‘Can you remember anything about Missy’s behaviour just before she left?’ Jane asked.

‘She hadn’t been her normal easy-going self. She was quiet and subdued. We always confided in each other when something was bothering us, but Missy was becoming more and more distant and keeping her feelings to herself. The last night I ever saw her we were in our room. It was after lights-out and I heard her crying. I asked what was upsetting her. Missy said she was really unhappy at the convent and didn’t know if she could continue to devote her life to the sisterhood and uphold the vows she had taken. I realised she was thinking of leaving. I told her not to do anything rash and suggested she should ask for a move to another convent. She said she would think about it, though it seemed to me she’d made up her mind. It wasn’t unusual for sisters to give up their faith, though generally they were novices. A few left while I was at the convent.’

‘Excuse my ignorance, but what exactly are the vows you take as a nun?’ Boon asked.

Julie smiled. ‘We were not nuns in the strict sense of the word. Although nuns and sisters are addressed as “Sister”, there is a difference. Nuns take solemn vows and live a cloistered life. They live, pray and work within the confines of a convent or nunnery. As “Sisters” we take simple perpetual vows of chastity, poverty and obedience. We can live in a convent or amongst the community, serving in healthcare or educational institutions. Nuns under solemn vows can only be released by the Pope, while sisters under simple vows can be released from them by the bishop.’

‘You learn something new every day,’ Boon smiled.

‘Do you think there was anything else, besides convent life, that was making Missy unhappy?’ Jane said.

Julie nodded. ‘I did wonder that, but I figured if Missy wanted to tell me she would, in her own time. I woke up in the early hours of the morning, Missy wasn’t in her bed...’ Julie started to cry. ‘I... looked on top of the wardrobe for the little case she’d brought with her when we first joined the convent. But it wasn’t there. She’d also taken her underwear and toiletries. At the time I thought she must have slipped out in the middle of the night. I was heartbroken she hadn’t said goodbye, but I understood why.’

‘How did Mother Superior find out?’

‘She asked me why Missy wasn’t at breakfast. I said I didn’t know and thought she’d got up before me. I was trying to give Missy as much time as possible to get far away from the convent. Mother Superior was furious when she realised Missy had run away. She accused me of helping her and Sister Margaret waved her cane in my face demanding to know where Missy had gone. I kept saying I didn’t know and Sister Margaret flew into a rage and beat me with her cane. Mother Superior said if anyone asked about Missy, I was to say she had decided to leave the sisterhood and left during the night. Back then there was an unspoken rule: when a sister left the community, we were not to mention her name again.’

‘That’s awful, Julie. I understand now why you believed she had run away. If I were in your shoes, I’d have thought the same thing,’ Jane said.

‘Me, too,’ Boon added.

‘Did they send anyone out to look for Missy?’ Jane asked.

‘Mother Superior said she was going to inform the police.’

‘Do you know if she did?’

‘No, but I very much doubt it, as a nun running away would be an embarrassment and could have caused them problems, especially if their abusive behaviour was ever revealed. However, she did tell Bishop Malone.’

Jane wasn’t surprised to hear his name come up again. ‘Isn’t he the archbishop of Southwark now?’

‘Yes, I heard he is.’

‘How did you know she told Malone?’

‘The next day I was called to Mother Superior’s office. Bishop Malone was there. He was angry and demanded to know if I knew Missy was going to run away, and if so, where she had gone. Initially I stuck to my story but was so incensed about the beating Sister Margaret had given me I told him Missy said she was going to write a letter to him about how abusive they were to the children.’

‘How did they all react?’ Jane asked.

‘He pointed his finger at me and accused me of lying. He said Missy had broken her vows and betrayed God and the Church by running away. Bishop Malone was only interested in protecting the good name of Mother Superior and the convent. He said Mother Superior would inform everyone that Missy had sought dispensation from her vows, which he had granted.’

Jane sighed. ‘Archbishop Malone seems to have a history of covering things up that look bad for the Church. He was also suspected of being abusive to children when he was a priest. Do you know if he was abusive to any of the children at your convent?’

‘I don’t think so. He rarely visited and was usually with other people when he did.’

‘Did no one think it strange that Missy didn’t say goodbye?’ Boon asked.

Julie shook her head. ‘There’s a “shroud of secrecy” when a Sister chooses to leave. They are under strict orders not to tell anyone or say goodbye and usually leave during the night. You have to understand that obedience was paramount in everything we did.’

‘What happened to you after the meeting?’

‘Mother Superior removed me from teaching the children and I ended up doing all the worst jobs around the convent for months. But I didn’t regret what I’d said to Bishop Malone about the abuse because I knew Missy would have been proud of me.’

‘I don’t wish to sound insensitive, but did you ever wonder why Missy didn’t try and make contact with you?’ Jane asked.

‘I like to think she wrote to me, but Missy knew all our incoming and outgoing mail was checked and censored by Mother Superior and Sister Margaret in case it contained something offensive to our vocation. They would have destroyed any letters Missy sent me. Some of my own letters from home were so inked out by them there was hardly anything left to read. I used to cry, worrying over what my mother had been trying to tell me, but there was no way I could ever know. It never occurred to me Missy might be dead. To now know she was murdered is beyond belief. Are you really sure it’s her?’

‘I hate to say it, Julie, but even more so now.’

‘But why? It just doesn’t make any sense. Who on earth would want to kill Missy?’

‘Right now, I can’t answer that, but I promise you we will find out who and why,’ Jane said reassuringly.

‘Could it have been an accident?’

‘I’m afraid the injuries she received rule that possibility out. Can you remember the date when you thought Missy ran away?’ Jane asked.

Julie closed her eyes and thought about it. ‘I think it was in August 1962. Shortly after her birthday.’

‘Was that before or after the fire?’

Julie closed her eyes again. ‘I’m not sure now... but I think it was before the fire.’

‘What do you remember about the fire?’

‘I was asleep in bed when I was woken by Sister Maria shouting that the outbuildings were on fire. I could see the flames as I ran through the gardens. When I got there, the bakery and schoolhouse next to it were ablaze and the flames were spreading rapidly to the other buildings. Mother Superior and some of the nuns were throwing water from the well on it. The heat got so intense they couldn’t get close enough with the water and had to stop trying to put it out. By the time the fire brigade got there, all the outbuildings were on fire.’

‘I was told the fire started in the bakery. Do you know if that’s correct?’ Jane asked.

Julie nodded. ‘That’s what Mother Superior thought. She was convinced one of us had failed to make sure the baking oven fire was extinguished at the end of the day. She thought a cinder must have started it. After the fire Mother Superior became an emotional wreck and started drinking even more. I think she knew in her heart the buildings wouldn’t be rebuilt and the convent would close... which of course it did.’

‘Do you know the Mother Superior’s full name and Sister Margaret’s surname?’

‘Adele Delaney was Mother Superior.’

‘Do you know where she is now?’

‘She died some years ago.’

‘How do you know?’

‘Sister Suzanne Lincoln told me. We were at the convent together and still keep in touch. She works at St Joseph’s Hospice in Mare Street, Hackney. She went there after the convent closed.’

‘Do you know where she lives?’ Boon asked.

‘The convent is situated in the midst of the hospice buildings. Mother Superior was in palliative care there, suffering with hepatocellular carcinoma.’

‘What’s that?’ Boon asked.

‘A form of liver cancer that occurs in people with alcoholic cirrhosis.’

‘The demon drink got the better of her in the end,’ Boon remarked.

Jane thought his remark inappropriate and glared at him before Julie continued.

‘Sister Margaret’s surname was Wilde. Which we all thought rather apt due to her fierce temper.’

‘Do you know where she is now?’ Jane asked.

‘I haven’t a clue. Suzanne might know.’

‘Does the name Father Bob mean anything to you?’

Julie smiled. ‘Yes. He was the priest at St Mary’s. He used to come to the convent and read stories to the children. He was a lovely man. I shouldn’t say it, but some of us younger sisters fancied him... but not in a carnal way, of course,’ she said with a grin.

‘Did Missy like him?’ Jane asked.

Julie laughed. ‘Yes, she used to refer to him as the “forbidden fruit”.’

Jane suddenly found herself thinking of Father Chris and the moment he’d kissed her.

‘Why did you ask about Father Bob?’ Julie asked.

‘Annette Gorman mentioned him, but wasn’t sure about his surname.’

‘It’s Meade.’

Jane didn’t want to press Julie about Meade possibly abusing the children, as it was clear she liked and trusted him, so she changed the subject.

‘There’s a tunnel from the crypt to the outbuildings. Was it in use while you were there?’ Jane asked.

‘Yes. We used it to take food from the bakery and gardens to the main building in bad weather. During the fire, part of it collapsed. Mother Superior had a builder look at it. He said it was dangerous, so we were all banned from using it. As I recall, the tunnel door in the crypt was removed and bricked up.’

‘Do you know who the builder was?’

‘No, I’m afraid not.’

‘Did any builders ever carry out repair work at the convent while you were there?’ Jane asked.

‘Sometimes, but I didn’t really take any notice. I recall a leaky roof in the chapel being repaired by a couple of men.’

‘Can you describe them?’

Julie shook her head. ‘Like I said, I didn’t really take any notice.’

Boon took a picture of the coffin from a folder and handed it to Julie. ‘Did you ever see this coffin when you were at the convent?’

‘I recall some metal ones like that in the crypt. And there were also a few wooden coffins down there.’

‘Would a nun be buried in a metal coffin?’ Boon asked.

‘No, the wooden ones were for us.’

Jane stood up. ‘That’s all we need to ask you for now, Julie. I’m sorry our conversation has been so upsetting for you. What you’ve told us has been incredibly useful to our investigation. DC Boon will compile an official statement at the station from his notes. Would you be happy to sign it and give evidence in court if required?’

‘Of course. I’ll do whatever you need if it helps catch whoever killed Missy.’

Boon tentatively raised his hand. ‘Can I ask you a personal question, Mrs Dorton?’

‘Of course.’

Jane gave him a sideways glance as a warning he’d better not upset her.

‘What made you leave the sisterhood?’

Julie smiled. ‘I found my own piece of forbidden fruit, fell in love and married him. My surname is Davidson now. Carl, my husband, is an ambulance driver,’ she said proudly.

As they walked to the front door, Jane remembered something.

‘Do you have any photographs of Missy from when you were at the convent?’

‘I’m sorry. Our vow of poverty meant we couldn’t have things like cameras.’

‘I guess the artist’s impression will have to suffice then,’ Jane said.

‘Actually, come to think of it, I’ve got a group photograph of us all with the children in a cupboard upstairs. Give me a second while I look for it,’ Julie said.

After a few minutes she came downstairs holding a large, framed black-and-white photograph. She handed it to Jane.

Boon leaned forward to look at the photograph, which had clearly been taken outside the schoolhouse. Three older sisters were sitting on a garden bench, with the rest of the sisters, a priest, and some children in a semi-circle behind them. The youngsters sat on the ground, cross-legged. Everyone was smiling as if they didn’t have a care in the world. Jane visualised Eaves’ artist’s impression but didn’t see anyone she could positively identify as Sister Missy. The fact that they were all dressed the same and wearing white wimples made it even more difficult.

Julie looked glum. ‘They say every picture tells a story... the truth is, this one lies. Although it brings back some happy memories, we all smiled because Mother Superior said anyone who didn’t would be for the high jump. That’s Missy,’ Julie said, pointing, ‘and that’s me on her left. Annette’s sat on the ground in front of Mother Superior who is in the centre on the bench, with Sister Margaret on her right. That’s Father Bob in the back row.’

‘Would you mind writing down the names of everyone in the photograph you can remember?’ Jane asked.

‘Of course.’ Julie went and got a notepad and set to work.

‘Do you have any more photos like this?’ Boon asked.

Julie shook her head. ‘We had a convent group photograph taken every summer. Mother Superior hung them in the “off limits” playroom. When we knew we had to leave the convent, I got the job of packing up the stuff that was in there. I took this as a memento of me and Missy and the year we took our final vows.’

Jane realised Meade looked a lot different now and doubted she’d have recognised him without Julie pointing him out. She saw the photograph had ‘Sisters of Mercy Convent 1958’ printed on the bottom and turned it over. She found what she was looking for. On the back was a sticky label with ‘Scott Davies Photography’ and an address in Market Square, Bromley.

‘Would you mind if I took this photograph with me?’ Jane asked.

The incident room was a hive of organised activity and urgent voices. Every phone was manned by detectives, trying not to talk over each other as they spoke with members of the public who had seen the six o’clock news. The caller’s details and information were recorded on the appropriate forms, which on completion were taken to Barnes’s office, where he and Stanley assessed and prioritised them for any immediate action.

‘You got anything that mentions Mead or Malone yet?’ Barnes asked Stanley.

‘Nope, nothing. I’ve got a few with possible names for nuns at the convent, but they’re all Sister this and Sister that — not a surname on any of them.

‘Same here. I thought we might at least get a call from a nun who’d lived there,’ Barnes sighed.

‘If they lead a sheltered life, they might not watch TV or read newspapers,’ Stanley remarked.

‘That’s true. At least we are getting people calling in, so fingers crossed.’

Stanley held up a few information forms. ‘There’ve been a few calls from people who said they were kids at the orphanage. They all mention the strict regime handed out by the Mother Superior and some of the nuns.’

‘I’ve got a few here too, but no mention of Meade being an abuser. We need to prioritise the calls we’ve received, then I’ll get some of the team to interview the former pupils.’ There was a knock on the door. ‘I’ve already told you there’s no need to knock,’ Barnes shouted, thinking it was a detective with more information forms.

Jane walked in, with Boon behind her carrying the convent photograph.

‘You two took your time.’

‘Less haste, more speed, sir,’ Jane beamed.

‘I’m not in the mood for flippancy, Tennison.’

‘We think we’ve identified our victim,’ Jane said.

‘And we’ve got proof Meade knew her,’ Boon added, holding up the photograph.

Barnes’s face lit up.

‘Who is she?’ an energised Barnes asked.

‘Her name’s Melissa Bailey, also known as Sister Missy, born fifth of August 1940. Her parents live in Kingston, Ontario. She became a novice at the Sisters of Mercy convent in February 1953 and took her final vows on the twentieth of February 1958.’

‘The date on the cross. That’s bloody brilliant. Well done, you two.’ Barnes beamed.

Boon put the photo down on Barnes’s desk and pointed out Melissa and Julie.

‘The priest in the back row is—’

‘The illustrious Father Bob,’ Barnes said, picking up the photograph to have a closer look.

‘Julie Dorton confirmed it’s Robert Meade,’ Boon added.

‘Meade was clearly well-liked, so I didn’t press her about him abusing the children. I figured it would be better coming from an actual victim if we trace one.’

Barnes nodded. ‘Tell me everything that Dorton said, chapter and verse.’

Jane recounted the interview from memory and Boon added other salient details from his notebook.

‘Well done, the pair of you. Dorton’s information is another step in the right direction. It yet again proves Meade is lying.’

‘I can’t say I was sorry to hear Mother Superior was dead after the way she treated those poor children,’ Boon remarked.

‘Julie’s account suggests Missy didn’t even get out of the front door of the convent before she was murdered,’ Jane said.

‘Dorton might have lied about her relationship with Missy because she was involved in the murder?’ Stanley suggested.

Jane shook her head. ‘I’ve no reason to doubt her whatsoever. I certainly don’t think Julie was putting on the tears for effect. She also got a severe beating from Sister Margaret.’

‘OK, fair enough, but it’s a question that needed to be raised,’ Stanley said defensively.

‘If Missy was murdered inside the convent when she was attempting to leave, it was probably in the early hours of the morning, which rules Meade out as he lived a mile—’

Barnes interrupted. ‘Come on, Jane, it’s bloody obvious Meade is lying through his teeth and involved in some way. Who’s to say Sister Missy didn’t go there to confront him if he was abusing the children?’

‘I’m not doubting he’s involved. I’m just saying it makes him less likely to be the killer if he was tucked up in bed. It’s also a bloody long way to drag a coffin from the presbytery to the convent,’ Jane replied.

‘Not if there’s two people carrying it. I’d bet a pound to a penny Malone is involved in some way,’ Barnes insisted.

Jane told Barnes about Julie’s meeting with the then Bishop Malone: how he wanted to protect the good name of the convent and grant Sister Missy a dispensation so it appeared she’d left the sisterhood of her own free will.

He nodded. ‘That just confirms my suspicions about Malone.’

Boon raised his hand. ‘Can I say something?’

‘I know Julie’s account suggests Mother Superior and Sister Margaret thought Sister Missy ran away, but it’s clear they both had violent tempers.’

‘It’s a valid point, son, but Missy’s post-mortem revealed her death was extremely violent and has all the hallmarks of a male assailant,’ Barnes said.

Jane thought there was more merit to Boon’s idea. ‘They could have been involved in a cover-up... or forced into one by Meade or Malone.’

‘I agree, that’s possible,’ Barnes conceded.

‘Well, Mother Superior can’t help us as she’s dead,’ Stanley remarked.

Barnes rubbed his chin. ‘We still need to confirm it, and trace Sister Margaret.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Boon, go and phone the hospice and see if you can get hold of Sister Suzanne. Tell her you spoke with Julie Dorton. Confirm Mother Superior’s death and see if she knows where Sister Margaret is. Also, ask if someone from the team can interview her tomorrow.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Boon said. He quickly left the office.

‘This case is a real can of worms,’ Barnes said. ‘The diocese will close ranks. They’ll speak to us, but they will lie through their teeth to protect their own and the reputation of the Church.’

After the meeting, Jane spoke privately with Stanley in the squad room. She asked him what was happening about searching the convent grounds and development site for other bodies. He told her that Barnes had spoken with Richard Eaves, the anthropologist, and sought his advice about looking for buried bodies.

‘What did Eaves say?’ Jane asked.

‘He’s going to speak with the university archaeology department. Apparently, they’ve got some new-fangled machine called a ground penetrating radar that looks for underground anomalies.’

‘Can it find human bodies?’

Stanley shrugged. ‘They’ve never used it for that, but they’re willing to give it a try. To be honest, I just think he’s going through the motions to cover his back, since we’ve not a shred of evidence any children or other nuns were murdered.’

‘Did they say how long it will take?’ Jane asked, thinking of Nick’s predicament.

‘A week or two. If they find nothing, then I guess the building work can recommence.’

When Stanley was out of earshot, Jane picked up a phone and dialled Nick’s office. There was no answer, so she tried his home phone.

‘Hi, it’s me. I’ve got a bit of good news for you. You might be able to reopen the site in a week or two.’

‘I’ll believe that when it happens,’ he replied dismissively. ‘My father just called. He’s not feeling well, so I need to go.’

‘Have I done something to upset you?’ Jane asked anxiously.

‘I don’t know, have you?’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Nothing. I’m really stressed at the moment. I’ll speak to you tomorrow.’ Nick put the phone down.

Jane wondered what on earth was bothering Nick. If he was having second thoughts about their relationship, she’d rather he be honest and say so. She racked her brain thinking of what she might have said or done to upset him, but nothing came to mind. She couldn’t go on like this, however: she had to talk to him face to face to find out what was going on.

Barnes walked into the squad room with a wad of information forms, which he handed to the civilian indexers.

‘I’ve marked up the ones that need further action and NFA’d the others. Some of the information received from former convent pupils is high priority. Allocate them to members of the squad to carry out interviews ASAP.’

Barnes saw Boon putting the phone down. ‘Any luck with Sister Suzanne?’

‘She’s happy to be interviewed and confirmed Adele Delaney is dead. She’d also heard through the grapevine that Sister Margaret Wilde is at a convent on Canvey Island. I rang the local Essex Old Bill. They said there’s a Sisters of Mercy convent on the island, which also has a large Catholic school on the site.’

‘Another home for abusers and the abused, no doubt,’ Barnes said, shaking his head.

‘According to the officer I spoke with, there’s no orphanage. But the school has a couple of hundred local kids. I’ve got the address and phone number. Shall I give them a ring and make an appointment to speak with Sister Margaret tomorrow?’

‘No, I don’t want her to know we’re coming,’ Barnes said. He called Stanley and Jane over. ‘Tomorrow morning, me and Stanley will pay Bishop Meade a visit. Boon’s got a possible location for Sister Margaret. Tennison, I want you to go with Boon to the convent on Canvey Island. If Sister Margaret is there, interview her — and don’t go easy on her.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Jane replied.

‘As things stand, are you going to arrest Meade tomorrow?’ Stanley asked.

‘You were right to question my decision earlier,’ Barnes replied. ‘The press conference and talking about Stephen’s death got me worked up. I think we need to turn the heat up slowly with Meade. Make him squirm a bit in a preliminary interview.’

Stanley nodded in agreement. ‘I gave Special Branch at Heathrow a call. Malone is booked on the seven o’clock BA flight which lands at ten. It will take him at least forty-five minutes to travel back to Archbishop’s House.’

‘We’ll leave here about half nine to interview Meade,’ Barnes replied.

‘Don’t you think we should aim to be there for nine, in case the archbishop returns?’ Stanley said.

‘On the contrary. I hope the son of a bitch does turn up!’ Barnes said.

‘What happens if they don’t let us into the diocesan offices?’ Stanley asked.

‘Then I’ll kick the bloody door in,’ Barnes said.

‘Are you going to interview Malone as well?’ Stanley asked.

‘Not yet. I want to make him squirm a bit first, too,’ he grinned.