St Benet's

by David Blake

  ‘And what the hell has that got to do with a girl who had her head smashed in by a lump of concrete?’

  ‘I suppose just the fact that Martin Isaac used to be a priest as well, sir.’

  ‘Forty-three years ago!’

  Tanner didn’t answer that.

  ‘As far as I can see, there’s nothing that connects the two!’ stated Forrester, with some impatience. ‘The death of the girl looks likely to be nothing more than a random act of unhinged brutality, probably involving one of her less stable ex-boyfriends, whereas this one looks as if it’s been in the planning for months. That’s why we’re giving this one priority, and why, I may add, I’ve been so good as to forgive that little stunt of yours, so enabling you to take over as the SIO for this investigation. Now, please, Tanner, tell me I’ve done the right thing?’

  ‘No sir, I mean - you have, sir, yes,’ replied Tanner, before Forrester elected to suspend him again.

  ‘I’m pleased to hear it. Now, I’m going to head back to the station to see how Cooper and Gilbert are getting on. No doubt Jenny here will be able to fill you in on anything else you need to know.’

  With that, he spun around and marched out, past the plastic sheeting and down the central aisle.

  With Forrester gone, Jenny gave Tanner a condescending glare to ask, ‘What now, sir?’ with about as much disrespectful over-emphasis on the last word as it was possible.

  Clearing his throat, Johnstone said, ‘I suppose I’d better leave you two to it,’ and slunk away to chat with one of his overalled colleagues.

  As Tanner began to get the feeling that the entire Norfolk Constabulary had found out about the argument he’d had with Jenny, along with the relationship that had preceded it, he matched her disparaging look with one of his own. ‘Well, Detective Constable Evans, Forrester is correct in saying that whoever did this had been planning it for a while. But for them to have gone to quite so much trouble, I don’t think this was just a murder. To me, this looks more like a public execution. And that means someone felt a strong sense that an injustice had been done. They also wanted to make a statement, aimed directly at those they thought would see it.’

  ‘You mean us?’

  ‘Possibly. But as I said to Forrester, there’s clearly a religious angle to this. I also suspect that what happened to Martin Isaac, and the girl at the cemetery, are linked somehow.’

  ‘DCI Forrester didn’t seem to share that opinion.’

  ‘Well, at this stage he’s probably more concerned with not upsetting the Church again.’

  ‘I thought it was you who upset the Church?’

  Keeping his voice low, looking deep into her eyes, he said, ‘Now listen, Jenny, I’ve apologised numerous times for my behaviour that day. I’ve openly admitted to both Forrester and you that I was wrong. I wish more than anything that I’d kept my mouth shut, especially with regards to the comments I made to you. I think you’re the most thoughtful, intelligent, caring woman I’ve met in a very long time. The last thing I wanted to do was to offend you or your beliefs. But as much as I’d like to, I can’t turn back the clock. What’s done is done. Now, if I am correct, and the three cases are linked somehow, then we may well have a psychotic serial killer on our hands. That could mean that this is just the start of it. It also means that I have work to do in order to stop whoever’s been doing this. My preference would be to do that with you working alongside me, but if you don’t feel that’s possible, then you need to tell Forrester, and preferably sooner rather than later.’

  There was a reprimand there. Jenny knew it. She’d allowed her anger at Tanner to spill out into her work, something which lacked both maturity and professionalism. There’d also been what felt like a genuine, heart-felt apology.

  With a brief hesitation, she offered him a sheepish smile to say, ‘You had me at psychotic serial killer.’

  Tanner let out the breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. ‘OK, good.’ Taking advantage of the positive momentum, he went on, ‘I’d like to take a quick look at where he lived before we get back to the station. We need to find out everything we possibly can about him, especially about his past; how long he’d been a priest, what influenced him to become one, who he knows, who knows him, who may have been holding a grudge against him, and most importantly, if there is anything that links what’s happened here with Martin Isaac, and that girl at the cemetery.’

  Nodding in agreement, Jenny said, ‘Before we go, there’s something that Forrester neglected to mention which, if you’re right about everything being connected, may be important.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘It’s something that we deliberately kept out of the papers.’

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘It concerns Martin Isaac. When forensics were going over what was left of the mausoleum where he’d been buried, they couldn’t find him.’

  Confused, Tanner said, ‘Sorry, I’m not with you.’

  ‘His body,’ continued Jenny. ‘They couldn’t find it.’

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  ‘I THINK I’VE got something,’ said Jenny, as Tanner stepped back into the office carrying two coffees and a couple of sandwiches.

  ‘Something useful, I hope?’ he said, dumping everything down on the desk to hand her one of the cups.

  They’d been trawling through Father Richard Illingworth’s life for nearly four hours but had yet to find anything of even the vaguest interest. All they’d discovered was that the priest of St. Mary’s church had been a veritable saint for the entirety of his adult life. He’d been Acle’s priest since he was ordained. He had neither a passport nor a driver’s license, and when they’d called various members of his congregation, whose letters and cards they’d found back at his house, they all seemed to have nothing but the highest praise for him.

  ‘There’s a reference to him having been involved in the trial of Martin Isaac.’

  ‘Really?’ Intrigued to learn more, he leaned over Jenny’s shoulder to get a closer look at what was displayed on her monitor.

  On her screen was the scanned-in image of a page from an old newspaper, the headline reading, ‘Church rallies in defence of Isaac.’

  ‘How on earth did you find that?’ he asked, with genuine surprise.

  ‘I ran a search for his name through the British Newspaper Archive. According to this, he was a key defence witness at the trial.’

  ‘You mean, a character witness?’

  ‘It says here that he provided an alibi.’

  ‘What? Halfway through a trial?’

  ‘That’s what it says.’

  ‘That must have come as a bit of a surprise, for both sides.’

  ‘According to the article, it’s because of the evidence that he and another priest gave that Isaac was acquitted.’

  ‘Who was the other one?’ questioned Tanner, doing his best to scan through what had been written.

  ‘The other priest?’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘It doesn’t say. Why?’

  ‘Because if that story’s true, then someone may have come to the rather belated conclusion that Martin Isaac was guilty all along, and is seeking retribution for him having been let off the hook.’

  ‘But why now?’

  ‘Maybe they unearthed some new evidence? Who knows? But if that is what has happened, and whoever killed Father Richard knows the name of that other priest, then he could well be next.’

  At that moment they heard Forrester call for them from his office doorway.

  ‘Perfect timing,’ said Tanner, and pushed himself up to go and find out what he wanted.

  Sitting back behind his desk, Forrester glanced up at Tanner and Jenny as they entered, before returning to frown at his monitor. ‘We’ve had interim reports from Dr Johnstone and forensics concerning our murdered priest.’

  Tanner asked, ‘Anything of interest?’

  ‘He died in the early hours of the morning, sometime between 3am and 6am, from asphyxiation, as was predicted.�
��

  ‘And forensics?’

  ‘That’s where things begin to go slightly awry. I think someone may have been incompetent enough to have contaminated the crime scene, or maybe they’ve mixed up the samples. Either that, or someone’s deliberately trying to make it look like someone else did it.’

  As they pulled out a couple of chairs, Tanner said, ‘Well, it would hardly be the first time someone has tried to frame someone else for a murder, sir.’

  Forrester looked over at them to say, ‘I think it would be in this instance.’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘The person they seem intent on trying to frame is dead.’

  ‘Dead?’

  Looking from one to the other, Forrester explained, ‘Your Martin Isaac. His DNA’s been found all over the crime scene.’

  Understandably a little confused, Jenny said, ‘I don’t follow, sir.’

  ‘I’m not sure I do either,’ replied Forrester. Turning to Tanner, he asked, ‘Did you hear that his body had been taken from his tomb?’

  ‘I did, sir, yes.’

  Catching Forrester’s eye, Jenny asked, ‘But why would someone try to make it look like a dead man killed the priest? Surely, if shifting the blame was the intention, they’d have at least chosen someone who was alive?’

  Sitting forward in his chair, addressing them both, Tanner said, ‘Not if you’re a member of his cult, and you wanted people to believe that Isaac had managed to raise himself from the dead, in order to seek retribution on those who’d maligned him in life.’

  ‘But Father Richard was one of the witnesses who helped him get off the murder charge,’ Jenny said. ‘He was on Isaac’s side.’

  Forrester looked perplexed. ‘Sorry, I don’t follow?’

  Taking over, Tanner said, ‘Just before you called us in, Jenny discovered that the priest we found over at Acle this morning was a key defence witness at Isaac’s murder trial. It was thanks to his evidence, and that of another priest, that he was acquitted. Before you told us about his DNA being found at the crime scene, to be honest, sir, I was assuming that the priest was murdered by someone who believed Martin Isaac was guilty, and it was retribution for Father Richard having helped him get off the murder charge. I was going to suggest that maybe we should try to figure out who the other priest is who gave evidence at Isaac’s trial, just in case he’s an intended target.’

  Sitting back in his chair, Forrester brought his index fingers together to rest against his mouth. As he stared off into space, deep in thought, he eventually said, ‘The press will have an absolute field day if they think the deceased Martin Isaac is our prime suspect!’

  Focusing his attention back on Tanner, he continued by saying, ‘I don’t suppose you’ve found out anything else about the victim, Father Richard?’

  ‘Only that he was a much-loved member of the community, someone who’d led a solitary life, didn’t seem to have been involved in any scandals, doesn’t appear to have had any enemies, and according to those who knew him, wouldn’t have hurt a fly.’

  ‘So, what you’re saying,’ continued Forrester, now tapping his index fingers against his chin, ‘is that we’ve either got someone who’s decided that after having thought about it for forty-three years, has finally decided to start seeking vengeance for the murder of a girl, way back in 1976; or, alternatively, that there’s some psychotic member of Isaac’s cult who’s attempting to make everyone believe that he’s risen from the grave and has set about his dark lord’s work, by dropping a rock on top of some poor girl’s head, before randomly popping over to Acle to drug the local vicar, drag him out of bed and nail him up to a cross?’

  ‘Of the two, I’d have said the former does seem to be the most likely, sir.’

  ‘Neither seems very likely, Tanner!’

  ‘Well, no, sir. But assuming it is the first, and that someone is seeking vengeance for the death of Claire Judson, then I’d like to suggest that we find the person who was the second witness at Isaac’s trial, and warn them, sir.’

  ‘Do we know who that person is?’

  ‘Not yet, no; but I know someone who should.’

  ‘Who’s that?’

  ‘Alan Birch. The owner of the bookshop in Coltishall. He was part of the legal defence team at Isaac’s trial.’

  ‘Yes, of course. OK, you’d better head off then, and make sure you let me know how you get on.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  As they stood to leave, Tanner said, ‘May I ask how DI Cooper’s getting on with the murder at the cemetery?’

  Returning to stare at his monitor, Forrester said, ‘I know what you’re thinking, Tanner. That the two cases are linked, and that you should be leading both.’

  ‘Well, I do think the cases are linked, sir, yes, but I wasn’t pushing to take over Cooper’s investigation.’

  ‘That’s good, because you’re not!’ he replied, glaring over at him. ‘After that stunt you pulled with the Bishop of Norfolk, you’re lucky to be here at all.’

  ‘I appreciate that, sir, but that doesn’t mean the cases aren’t linked.’

  ‘I’m fully aware of that, thank you. But as far as I can make out, the only way the two could be is if someone is attempting to frame Martin Isaac, who happens to be dead. I’m sorry, but that’s the most ridiculous theory I’ve ever heard in my entire life. So until there’s a more sensible link established, I want Cooper and Gilbert to stay on the girl, and the two of you to focus on who killed the priest. But before you do that, find out who that other witness was at Isaac’s trial, and let him know what’s been going on. If he’s still local, then it may be prudent for us to post a couple of PCs outside his front door.’

  ‘Yes, sir,’ replied Tanner, turning to lead the way out.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  AFTER A SHORT drive up the road to Coltishall, Tanner pushed open the door of Alan Birch’s Victorian bookshop, setting the bell ringing as he did.

  As on the previous occasion, there wasn’t a single customer in sight, and the owner was nowhere to be seen.

  ‘How on earth does he make any money?’ whispered Jenny, staring around at all the books.

  ‘I’ve got no idea,’ said Tanner, picking one up from a nearby display table. ‘But judging by how much he’s asking for them, he probably wouldn’t need to sell that many to get by.’

  ‘I won’t be a minute!’ called a voice from the back.

  Hurried footsteps rattled down the spiral staircase, and it wasn’t long before Alan Birch came into view.

  The moment he saw who it was, the expectant cheerful expression fell from his face to be replaced by a smile which lacked both warmth and sincerity.

  ‘Sorry to bother you again, Mr Birch,’ began Tanner, ‘but we were wondering if you’d be able to help us with something?’

  Taking up his position behind the counter, he replied, ‘Of course. Anything for the police.’

  ‘You mentioned when we were last here that you were a part of the legal defence team at Martin Isaac’s trial.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Since then we’ve discovered that there were two key witnesses at the trial, both priests, and both of whom were able to provide Isaac with a somewhat belated alibi.’

  ‘Father Michael Minshall,’ stated Birch, in a matter-of-fact tone of voice.

  Confused, Tanner said, ‘I’m sorry?’

  ‘The name of the second witness. It was Father Michael Minshall. I assume that’s what you came to find out?’

  ‘Well, yes, but how could you have possibly known that?’

  ‘Because there was a reporter here from the Norfolk Herald about half an hour ago, asking the exact same thing.’

  The two detectives exchanged intrigued glances; then Tanner turned back to ask, ‘I don’t suppose that person gave their name, by any chance?’

  ‘I can do better than that,’ Birch replied, picking up a business card from the counter to pass to him. ‘He left me this.’

  Deliberately n
ot touching it, Tanner leaned over to read out what it said.

  ‘Kevin Griffiths, Investigative Journalist.’

  ‘That’s the one.’

  Motioning for Jenny to bag the business card as possible evidence, Tanner continued by asking, ‘And he was looking to find out who the defence witnesses were at Martin Isaac’s trial?’

  ‘He was asking who the second one was, yes.’

  ‘I assume you didn’t tell him?’

  ‘Why shouldn’t I have told him?’

  ‘You mean you did?’ asked Tanner, with a look of incredulity.

  ‘Well, yes, of course.’

  ‘You did hear what happened to the other witness, Father Richard Illingworth, over at Acle?’

  ‘It was on the news this morning,’ acknowledged Birch. ‘To think that someone could have done such a thing. Quite horrific!’

  ‘And yet, despite knowing that one of the key witnesses at a trial where you served on the defence team was executed, as you quite rightly said, in such a horrific manner, you decided to freely tell some bloke who just happens to wander in off the street who the other witness was?’

  ‘Yes, but I didn’t think the two were connected.’

  Tanner stared at him in astonishment.

  In a defensive tone, Birch added, ‘Besides, he was a journalist.’

  ‘I see. And you knew that for a fact, did you?’

  ‘Well, that’s what it said on his card.’

  ‘Do you have any idea how easy it is to get a business card printed up these days?’

  Birch didn’t answer, but hung his head with a particularly glum expression.

  ‘I suppose if he’d said he was looking for blood donors, you’d have given him a pint of the stuff?

  ‘Of course not!’

  ‘Then why the hell did you tell him the name of the second witness?’

  With a guilty shrug, he said, ‘Well, he asked me, so I told him.’

  Shaking his head in disbelief, Tanner asked, ‘I suppose you told him where he lived as well, and maybe suggested a few alternative ways he’d be able to break in without being overheard?’