by David Blake
‘We can do better than that. Let’s have him in for questioning under caution. That way he’ll have no choice but to tell us who the other members of his cult are. We also need to find out if this article is true - if the letter they mention actually exists, or if it’s just the figment of Kevin Griffith’s overly developed imagination.’
‘Maybe we should bring him in as well,’ suggested Jenny. ‘If it is true, he deliberately withheld information from us about the letter, and by making its contents public, he may have put Birch’s life in danger.’
‘OK. Birch has probably already seen the article, but in case he hasn’t, give him a call and warn him that his name has been mentioned.’
‘Should I ask him to come in?’
‘No. We’re going to need Forrester’s permission to do that, and he’s not even in yet. It’s probably better if Birch remains where he is for now, until we can get down there and pick him up. But I’d certainly be keen to bring Griffiths back in. I’m very curious to know why he didn’t think to mention the letter to us, and who the kind soul was who gave it to him.’
CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN
HEARING THE MAIN office door open behind them, they turned to see DCI Forester marching in, his face a mask of dark foreboding. As he passed their desks, he glowered over at them and said, ‘You two, my office, now!’
The moment he’d passed, Tanner whispered over to Jenny, ‘Any ideas?’
‘I think that’s just his way of saying good morning.’
Following him, that day’s edition of the Norfolk Herald in Tanner’s hand, they entered his office and waited as Forrester took his seat, switched on his computer, looked up at them and said, ‘The forensics report’s come in on Father Michael Minshall. I assume you’ve already seen it?’
‘I’m sorry, sir,’ Tanner said, ‘I’ve yet to check my email.’
With a look of stern rebuke, as Forrester waited for his computer to boot up, he pulled out his phone, woke it up and handed it over to Tanner. ‘Guess whose DNA they found all over the crime scene?’
As Tanner took the phone, Forrester answered the question himself.
‘Martin bloody Isaac!’
With Tanner scrolling through the email, Forrester continued by saying, ‘I’ve told you before, Tanner, I can’t have some dead guy as our prime suspect.’
‘No, sir,’ Tanner replied, still trying to read through the report.
‘What’s worse,’ continued the DCI, with his elbows planted firmly on his desk, ‘is that he’s our only bloody suspect! If this gets out, we’ll be the laughing stock of the entire police force. Now please, tell me you’ve got something more to go on, other than that the murderer is some old dead guy?’
Returning his phone, Tanner said, ‘There has been a development, sir.’
‘Well? Go on!’
Tanner handed him the copy of the Norfolk Herald. ‘Jenny brought this in this morning.’
Glancing down at the headline, Forrester said, ‘Not this satanic crap again?’
‘It is, sir, yes, but what’s of interest is who wrote the article, and what he says that he’s found.’
‘And what’s that?’
‘Kevin Griffiths claims to have unearthed a letter that was written to the Cardinal, shortly after Martin Isaac’s murder trial, recommending Isaac be excommunicated from the Church, despite having been found not guilty.’
‘Yes, and…? We already knew that.’
‘We did, sir, yes; but it’s who made the recommendation that’s of particular interest.’
When Forrester reached the relevant part, he looked up. ‘Have you warned Birch yet?’
‘We were about to when you called us in,’ said Tanner, before nodding at Jenny. ‘You’d better do that now.’
She excused herself and left the room, leaving Tanner standing in silence, whilst Forrester finished skimming through the article.
When it looked as if he was coming to the end, Tanner said, ‘I’d like permission to bring Alan Birch in for questioning, sir.’
‘For what purpose?’
‘He needs to tell us who the other members of his cult are. The last time I asked him, he refused, but I’m confident that it’s one of them who thinks Martin Isaac was guilty and is out for revenge, whilst at the same time attempting to make it look as if the murderer is Isaac himself, risen from the grave.’
After a momentary pause, Forrester eventually said, ‘OK, you’d better bring him in.’
‘I’d also like to bring Kevin Griffiths in as well, sir. We need to know if this letter actually exists, and more importantly, who gave it to him.’
‘Can’t you just ask him?’
‘I doubt he’ll be too keen to tell us.’
‘You won’t know until you try.’
‘There’s also the fact that he withheld information from us, sir, when we were interviewing him yesterday.’
‘Did you ask him about the letter during the interview?’
‘Well, no sir, but only because we didn’t know about it.’
‘Then you can’t say that he withheld information from you; at least that’s what a court would say. You can’t withhold something that you haven’t been asked for.’
‘Fair enough, but by publishing the letter’s contents, he may have placed Alan Birch’s life in danger.’
‘Possibly, but isn’t that what journalists do? Besides, if the priests were murdered for their involvement in having had Isaac excommunicated, whoever did it must have known about them a long time before this article was published. And if they knew about the priests, then they’d no doubt know about Alan Birch as well. It could be that the murderer was the one who gave the letter to Griffiths. So, for now, I suggest you call him up and ask him who gave it to him. If he says he’s not prepared to reveal his source, then feel free to bring him in under caution.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Turning to leave, he was about to step out when he turned back to face his DCI.
‘Was there something else?’ questioned Forrester.
‘There is, sir, yes. I’d like permission to re-open the investigation into the death of Claire Judson.’
‘Claire who?’
‘The girl Martin Isaac was accused of murdering, sir, back in 1976.’
‘Please tell me you’re not being serious?’
‘I am, sir, yes.’
‘Aren’t the murders of the two priests enough for you?’
‘It’s just that it seems to be what links everything together, sir, especially if Isaac was innocent, as the court found, and the priests wanted him kicked out of the Church because his character had been tarnished by the accusations made against him, not because he was guilty.’
‘Sorry, I’m not with you.’
‘If he was innocent, that means Claire Judson’s murderer was never found. It could be him who’s doing all this.’
‘But for what reason?’
‘Maybe someone told him that Isaac had found out who’d raped and murdered the girl. Maybe the priests had found out as well. He threw her from the top of the church tower, sir. If he was capable of such an attack upon a fifteen year old schoolgirl, then he’d certainly fit the psychological profile of someone who could commit murder with the sort of extreme sadism that we’ve been witness to.’
‘That’s as may be, but do you have any idea how difficult it would be to investigate a case that’s over forty years old?’
‘It will be challenging, of course, sir, but if it leads us to who murdered the priests…’
‘Even if you were able to somehow unearth new evidence, I still think it’s more likely that whoever killed the priests did so because they believed Martin Isaac was guilty, and they’d helped him escape the murder charge. But let’s just say that your other theory is correct - that Isaac was innocent, and that the person responsible is still at large. If Isaac had somehow found out who killed her, and had for some obscure reason gone and told the priests as well, why would that person perform what are n
othing less than public executions? Surely he’d have just bashed them on the head?’
‘Maybe he did so to make it look like it was someone who was seeking revenge for allowing Isaac to skip the murder charge?’
‘I’m sorry, Tanner, but you’re way over-thinking this. I suggest you stick with the matter at hand, and leave the forty year old murder case well alone.’
‘But sir…!’
‘No! You need to focus on the here and now, not something that happened back in the Seventies. However, if it makes you feel any better, I do agree with you on one thing.’
‘What’s that?’
‘That there is enough of a link between the girl who was killed at the cemetery, and the murders of the two priests. I’m therefore making you the SIO for both cases, and will have DI Cooper and DS Gilbert report to you. Happy?’
‘Well, it’s a start, I suppose.’
‘I’ll take that as a yes. I’ll tell them to brief you as to where they are with that one. Meanwhile, call Kevin Griffiths. Ask him about that letter, and find out who gave it to him. If you have to bring him in under caution, so be it. If the story’s true, then we need Alan Birch to give us the list of names of all known cult members, along with their contact details.’
As Tanner turned to leave, Forrester added, ‘And I assume you’re OK to work the weekend?’
Realising that it was Friday already, Tanner nodded. ‘Yes, of course, sir. No problem.’
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
TANNER EMERGED FROM the meeting feeling both frustrated and depressed. He’d never much liked being told what to do, which was one of the reasons why joining the police had probably been a poor career choice for him. He’d also never been much of a fan for having to work through the weekends, something which was expected of everyone; particularly when they were in the middle of a murder investigation.
Reminding himself that it wasn’t entirely his fault that he had joined the police, and that a large part of the reason had been due to the expectations of his late father, he ambled over to his desk.
‘How’d it go?’ asked Jenny, noting the resigned look on his face.
‘Well, at least he’s had the good sense to bring the murder of the girl at the cemetery under the same investigation.’
‘With you as the Senior Investigating Officer?’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘That’s good, isn’t it?’
‘It is, but I’d hoped he’d allow us to get to what I can’t help think lies at the heart of all of this.’
‘What’s that?’
‘The murder of Claire Judson.’
‘You mean, you asked him for permission to re-open a forty-three year old murder investigation, and he said no?’
Her exaggerated tone of surprise told him that she was being sarcastic.
‘You’re forgetting that if Martin Isaac was innocent, then the case of her murder remains unsolved.’
‘But if he was guilty, and managed to get off simply because of a couple of dubious alibis, then the case died with him.’
‘Which still leaves us with a serial killer living in the here and now, someone who must have had some sort of a connection with Claire Judson in order to be seeking vengeance on those who helped Isaac get off.’
‘Not unless it’s some deranged member of his cult, attempting to make it look like he’s risen from the dead.’
At that reminder, Tanner asked, ‘Were you able to get hold of Alan Birch?’
‘I did, yes. I told him to sit tight, and suggested that it may be in his interest to close his shop for the time being.’
‘How’d he sound?’
‘I’d say somewhere between slightly concerned and completely terrified. But as he’d already read the article, he’d taken the precaution of closing his shop.’
‘OK, let me give our favourite freelance journalist a quick call. Hopefully he’ll be willing to show us a copy of that letter he says he has, and to tell us how he came by it. Then we’d better bring Birch in for questioning. Somehow, I don’t think he’s going to mind being held under lock and key, in the current circumstances. After that, I suggest we have a quick catch up with Cooper, to see how he’s been getting on with that murdered cemetery girl.’
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE
‘FANCY SOMETHING TO eat?’ asked Tanner, holding the door for Jenny as they left Wroxham Police Station at the end of the day.
Having been forced to turn down her invitation the evening before, he knew she was unlikely to ask him again, leaving it for him to make what he hoped would be the first move in re-establishing their former relationship.
‘As long as you’re buying,’ she replied, but without her normal mischievous smile.
‘No problem,’ said Tanner, noting that her response was far from enthusiastic. He was, however, relieved that she’d accepted. It would have been easy enough for her to have said no.
‘Where’d you like to go?’ he asked, as they came to a standstill in the middle of the car park, his car on one side, hers on the other.
‘I don’t mind,’ she replied, suppressing a yawn, ‘but I’d prefer if it was somewhere close to my flat. I don’t want to be up late. Not when we have to work the weekend.’
Although the day had been beneficial, it had also been tediously long, leaving them both feeling tired and drained.
As expected, Alan Birch had been more than happy to accompany them for questioning. When he’d been cautioned, and had been asked if he wanted a lawyer, he’d become surprisingly communicative, providing them with a list of everyone he knew who was an active member of the Ecclesia Diaboli. It wasn’t an exhaustive list, as he said he didn’t know all the members by name, but it provided more than enough for them to be getting on with.
Kevin Griffiths had also been willing to oblige them with the letter they’d requested, which he’d brought into the station by hand. At first he’d been reluctant to let them know how he’d come by it, but when Tanner had pressed him on the matter, he’d told them that it had been sent to his home address via an anonymous source. That person had made contact with him through a website called TheJournalistsDirectory.com, where he’d registered himself as being a specialist feature writer within the field of Religion. He’d checked the boxes for every specialist area, from Politics to Pornography, but the tip-off had come through the Religion thread.
After making a note of the envelope’s Norwich postmark, Jenny had sent both it and the letter off to forensics, to see if they could extract anything useful from it.
At the end of the day, they finally found time to sit down with Cooper and Gilbert, to see how they’d progressed with the girl murdered at the graveyard, which hadn’t been far, leaving Tanner wondering what they’d been doing for the past three days.
With a plan for the evening agreed, they stopped by Jenny’s flat to drop off her car, allowing her to have a couple of drinks when they were out. As she climbed into the XJS, Tanner said, ‘I’ve managed to book a table at the Swan Inn, but it’s not for another forty-five minutes.’
‘We could sit by the river for a while.’
‘I was actually wondering if we could stop by your old church again.’
Jenny eyed him suspiciously. ‘Are you thinking about Claire Judson, by any chance?’
‘I must admit that I am.’
‘I do hope you’re not considering re-opening her murder investigation, when Forrester’s told you not to, especially as you’re only just back off suspension.’
‘I was just wondering if the priest we met there would be able to tell us any more about the man he’d seen visiting her grave, and maybe he’d be prepared to help us put together a facial composite.’
‘Funny, but that sounds very much like re-opening the investigation to me.’
‘Yes, well, it may sound like it, but it isn’t, at least not officially.’
‘You weren’t officially interrogating the Bishop of Norfolk either, but you still managed to get yourself suspended for it.’
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‘Which is why I thought you’d be able to ask the priest on my behalf?’
‘Are you trying to get me suspended?’ she asked, raising her eyebrows at him.
‘Don’t worry. Forrester only said that I couldn’t re-open the investigation. He didn’t say anything about you.’
‘Er…I’m fairly sure Forrester isn’t going to see it that way, especially as I report to you.’
‘Then I’d say that it was my fault.’
‘And you’d be suspended again.’
‘Possibly, but I doubt it. For a start, the priest at St. Andrew’s is hardly a bishop, and secondly, with three murders on his hands, Forrester’s short staffed as it is.’
‘All right,’ agreed Jenny, as she clipped on her seatbelt, ‘but if we end up being late for our table, I’m not going to be happy. I’m hungry enough as it is.’
CHAPTER THIRTY
TANNER PULLED HIS car into the gravel layby outside the black wooden arch which marked the entrance to St. Andrew’s church.
Stepping out, seeing the long shadows cast by the evening sun, Jenny said, ‘I doubt he’ll be in. Not this late.’
As he hurried around the car’s long sweeping bonnet, Tanner asked, ‘What was his name again?’
‘Father Thomas.’
‘If he’s not here, do you know where his house is?’
‘Next door, if I remember correctly.’
‘OK, well, let’s just have a quick look to see if he’s around. We can always come back another time.’
‘Or, alternatively, we could give it a miss altogether,’ Jenny replied, still thinking he was making a mistake about them being there at all.
As they strode up towards the church entrance, seeing a thick shadow dividing the two doors, Tanner said, ‘It’s still open.’
Under her breath, Jenny muttered, ‘Unlike the restaurant,’ whilst making a point of checking her watch.
‘It’s only eight o’clock. We’ve got bags of time.’
