Confession at Maddleskirk Abbey

by Nicholas Rhea

  ‘Not you, surely?’

  ‘Yes but mine is to you, not to a priest.’

  And so they wandered outside like a pair of old friends chattering about nothing in particular until they reached a bench overlooking the currently deserted cricket field. Bright autumn sunshine flooded the view to highlight the colours of the maturing woodland opposite. The only disruption was a military helicopter taking off nearby, its mission to the Maddleskirk College Cadet Corps complete. Waiting until its sound faded in the distance as it followed the well-used helicopter corridor back to base, and satisfied that their conversation would be totally private, Napier said, ‘There’s nothing on paper about any of this, Brian. It’s far too sensitive. I’ll update you on a need-to-know basis and then we’ll have to determine how much we can reveal during this investigation. It goes without saying that Operation Rainbow is top secret and currently for your ears only but it does relate to our current murder inquiry as well as the missing monk. I can now tell you the two are linked. This affects the strategy we must adopt.’

  ‘I can keep my mouth shut, boss!’

  ‘I know, so first things first. We have an identity for the murder victim. It has not been revealed to anyone, not even the staff of the murder room. It’s not been entered into any of our files and that will be the situation for some time yet. I received the information from the chief constable – he’s involved in this. The victim’s identification was achieved by fingerprints so there is no doubt about his name even though it’s not been officially confirmed. His name is Ian Joseph Radcliffe, he is thirty-two years old and hails from Ealing, one of the London boroughs.’

  ‘So he has convictions? Is this a gangland killing?’

  ‘Partly wrong, Brian. He doesn’t have convictions. But his fingerprints are on record.’

  ‘So he’s a police officer? Was a police officer?’

  ‘Right, and this is a gangland killing. His mode of death leaves no doubt. As you know, the fingerprints of everyone joining the police are held on record, it’s a way of ensuring they behave themselves. So yes, he was a detective inspector from Department C1 of the London Metropolitan Police and he was in this area in an undercover protection role. Now you can see that one serious problem already faces us – we can’t make this public and must even keep it from some of our teams.’

  ‘I can understand that. So how did he come to be in that woodland? Here in the peaceful countryside of North Yorkshire? Was it some operation we should have known about?’

  ‘Probably not. He was deep undercover, Brian. I don’t know what his cover story is or was, or what false identity he had adopted, but I can tell you that he was involved in the secret supervision and protection of a man who was released from prison on licence some years ago. That operation was so secret that local detectives could not be used in case they were recognized. This detective inspector was drafted in due to problems that affected the released prisoner – he was being targeted by the villain we want to draw into our net. That’s our task, Brian, to draw that target man into our net with enough evidence to get him convicted. I can confirm that the murder victim was not known in this area and his presence went virtually unnoticed – exactly what was intended.’

  ‘Obviously somebody did find out who he was, and knew why he was here!’

  ‘That’s our problem, Brian. Who knew?’

  ‘What do we know about the man he was shadowing?’

  ‘I’m coming to that. His target – a convicted murderer, a man – was sentenced to life imprisonment for the murder of two little girls, twin sisters aged six, in Manchester. He was released on licence after fifteen years inside because it was felt by the parole board that he was no longer a danger to others, especially children. He has been out for about ten years and remains free. On licence, of course.’

  ‘But surely if he was being supervised in such secrecy by a top detective, he must have been considered a danger, despite the parole board’s opinions?’

  ‘An alternative view is that he was known to be in danger himself, Brian. He was not thought to be a danger to others; others were known to be a danger to him.’

  ‘So why wasn’t he kept in prison for his own safety?’

  ‘Because he wasn’t safe in prison, Brian. He got on the wrong side of a drugs baron by whistle-blowing when he was inside. You know how prisoners treat those who harm children; you can imagine what they would do to a child killer who was also a whistle-blower. He was kept apart, often in solitary confinement for his own safety, but the criminal we are targeting has lieutenants inside most prisons – working on his drugs operations. More about that in due course.’

  ‘No hiding place, in other words?’

  ‘None. But there is something else. There is a strong belief that this particular prisoner was innocent of those murders. He did not kill those little girls.’

  ‘You’re saying he was set up for the crimes? This gets curiouser and curiouser …’

  ‘It does, because if that prisoner is innocent, then the evidence points to the girls’ stepfather. He is the drug dealer we are targeting and he has emerged as chief suspect for those child murders and other murders. In short, the man who did time for those child murders was framed.’

  ‘Nasty!’

  ‘We’re dealing with very brutal and nasty people, Brian. It means that if the released man can persuade the authorities to conduct a cold-case review, his conviction could be quashed and it might be possible to prove the dealer/stepfather killed the children. You might have realized now that our target is actively trying to prevent that cold-case review – it could send him down for a long, long time.’

  ‘And to do that he must eliminate the ex-prisoner? Silence him. Kill him in other words.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘So it’s our task to draw that villain into our net, and get him convicted?’

  ‘That about covers it, Brian.’

  ‘Good God! How did we get involved in this? Here we are, a peaceful rural police force working among beautiful scenery with soothing religious music in this wonderful abbey and now this! So who are we trying to draw into our web? Am I allowed to know?’

  ‘As I said, it’s the stepfather of those two little girls. He framed an innocent neighbour, the man who is now out on licence. The stepfather is trying to locate that released prisoner because he knows too much and could get him sent down. DI Radcliffe had been shadowing the ex-prisoner in a protective role whilst trying to secure enough evidence to convict the stepfather of harassment at least. I should add that the stepfather has a known history of violence and drug dealing in a big way as well as other crimes. He shows no mercy to those who cross him. None whatsoever. There are indications he’s murdered the children of other rivals. He has always avoided prosecution – through a lack of evidence and no witnesses. But what we know and what we can prove are quite different, Brian.’

  ‘So what’s new? Does DI Radcliffe’s murder mean that the stepfather has been operating in this area?’

  ‘We’ve discovered he lives not far away under an assumed name. He’s always changing names and addresses; he’s dangerous, cunning, clever and rich. Our task in Operation Rainbow is to draw him into our net and get him locked away.’

  ‘Where does the girls’ mother fit into all this? Is she still around?’

  ‘She is but I’m sure she had no idea her husband killed her children. We need to find her – it’s widely thought she is the brains behind the cover used to conceal the drugs deals. Almost certainly the couple are still together. We believe the girls were killed as an act of revenge against another drug dealer, their real father. It removes his bloodline, that taint has effectively been eliminated … it tells you a lot about the man we need to draw into our web.’

  ‘You’ve learned a lot in a short time, sir.’

  ‘It’s par for the course, Brian. We never know what a murder investigation will throw up but this is not going to be easy. To be frank, we don’t really know how or why Radcliffe tur
ned up dead in that woodland. The forensic examination of his remains and clothing hasn’t provided as much evidence as we’d hoped except that he might have died a couple of days before he was found. That brings us to Saturday. However, it’s clear from Radcliffe’s death that he was in danger. Whether his killer knew he was a cop isn’t known, but on balance it seems his cover had been blown.’

  ‘With no mercy?’

  ‘None whatever. There is a story that our drug dealer once blew up a rival’s house with explosives to kill him. He’s that sort of person. He’ll stop at nothing to get his own way. It means, Brian, that with DI Radcliffe out of the way, the man he was protecting and watching is all the more vulnerable, especially as he can testify against the villain. That witness is now our responsibility and needs our protection.’

  ‘Do we know who he is?’

  ‘Hereabouts he is known as Father John Attwood.’

  ‘Good grief! The missing monk?’

  ‘The very man.’

  ‘I don’t understand all this, boss! You’re saying it was our missing monk who was found guilty of killing those two little girls?’

  ‘Yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. When he was released on licence, he was given a new identity and then joined this monastery. The jury had found him guilty but it is now felt, after re-examination of the evidence with an updated forensic input, that the prosecution’s case was flawed. The prosecution alleged he had stabbed the girls to death whilst he was supposed to be looking after them. Their real father – turned informer – had been killed in a staged road traffic accident some years earlier. It is now known that the accident was set up to kill him. Their widowed mum was struggling to earn a living whilst looking after them and eventually shacked up with another man. According to the evidence at the trial, our monk was a friend and neighbour of the family. He helped to look after the house and children when the mother and her man-friend, the stepfather, were out.’

  ‘That seems suspiciously like the actions of a paedophile.’

  ‘There was no evidence of that, but it was the prosecution’s case that the friendly neighbour – now Father John – cracked and for reasons that have never been explained, slaughtered both girls. Stabbed them umpteen times. Their stepfather was a key witness. That’s the basis of this story.’

  ‘So Father John was tried, found guilty and sentenced to life?’

  ‘Yes, two sentences of life imprisonment, running concurrently. In prison, he persistently refused to admit his guilt and so he was not granted parole – but even if he had been granted parole, his record would have followed him.’

  ‘That can happen, sir. Word has a habit of getting out …’

  ‘Or being let out by someone with a motive of some kind! Anyway, once back in the wicked world outside prison, our supposed killer would have suffered in all kinds of ways. As we know, his past would have been made known by those with a big axe to grind, i.e., the girls’ surviving relatives. Anyway, to everyone’s surprise the convicted killer suddenly admitted his guilt and, after a lot of discussion among those responsible for such things, he was granted parole. It means he is now out on licence with constant checking of his movements and supervision of his mode of living. And to protect him, he has been given a false identity with all the necessary documentation along with a realistic back story. I should tell you that I learned of this only since arriving here. I can’t promise I’ve digested its full import yet. However, I can say it has altered almost everything so far as our investigation is concerned. We now need to re-think our approach in the hope that we’ll catch a big fish.’

  ‘There’s more to come, isn’t there? I can sense it.’

  ‘You’re right. There is. Remember I said the name of that missing monk meant something to me? I’d come across it in the course of my work – the force is notified of all such ex-prisoners who live in our patch under new identities.’

  ‘I knew that.’

  ‘Well, our monk is such a man, Brian. Father John Attwood is that child killer who’s now out on parole but as you know, he will always be supervised.’

  ‘Freed killers are never really free.’

  ‘They’re always subjected to the conditions of their licence. His real name is John Jacobson.’

  ‘With a long criminal record?’

  ‘No. He has no convictions for any other crimes and has never been suspected, not even for paedophilia. Apart from that double murder, his record is squeaky clean, Brian. And he has always protested his innocence; he insists he did not kill those little girls. Now, after all this time, there is doubt about his conviction.’

  ‘But he admitted the crimes to get himself released on licence!’

  ‘With such a high-profile murder on his record, that is the only way he would have been granted parole. It is widely thought he admitted his guilt simply to get out of prison. He intends to establish his innocence but couldn’t do so whilst inside.’

  ‘Can I ask if you believe he’s innocent?’

  ‘I have no idea, Brian. I’ve not had chance to study the case in depth, or even read the newspaper reports. With the aid of the internet, we can find out more.’

  ‘So we must reopen his case?’

  ‘On what grounds, Brian? On the say-so of a man convicted of a very brutal double murder of two children? Our prisons are full of people who claim they are innocent. And another thing, his crimes did not occur in our area, so we don’t have ready access to the necessary files. The child murders were in the suburbs of Manchester. If there is to be a cold-case review, it could only be done or initiated by the local police, not us.’

  ‘But surely, in view of our current case, we can ask that force for help? To find out what really happened?’

  ‘We can ask, Brian. That means you’ve just talked yourself into a job. I would suggest you make an appointment to see the CID boss of Greater Manchester Police immediately if not sooner. Explain your reasons then go and visit him in his office – I’d say the entire case papers will be several feet thick. We don’t want an email copy of that lot! You need to speak in person to the officers involved if any are still around. It’s possible some are. Try to gauge their gut feeling about the case, ask if there’s any chance Attwood alias Jacobson was innocent. I’m sure my counterpart in Greater Manchester will be aware of his release on licence – his department will have been officially notified.’

  ‘I’ll get cracking right away. How is this going to affect the way we deal with the present murder?’

  ‘It’s not easy to say but we must be somewhat devious from this point onwards. I’m going to suggest we continue our murder enquiries as if we don’t know the victim’s identity. If we release his name, the press will get on to the story and I don’t want that kind of sensational revelation, not at this stage. So we keep quiet and continue as if we are trying to ascertain his name, address and personal details. Remember only you and I know the truth. Let’s keep it like that for the time being. We can keep our teams and the monkstables busy trying to find out. It won’t be a waste of time because we need to know whether there have been any sightings of him, alone or with a companion. After all, we must know if anyone can throw light on his death. There is still a lot of groundwork to complete.’

  ‘That makes sense; someone must have seen him around here.’

  ‘Our teams can ask whether he’s been staying in lodgings or travelling in when necessary. He might have a car parked somewhere. Sooner or later in a rural area like this, it will attract attention.’

  ‘That should keep the local CID and monkstables busy.’

  ‘I’ll get them to ask at B&B establishments too. He must have lodged somewhere. We don’t need to release his name to achieve a result of this kind but we must try to establish a link with our target villain.’

  ‘So what’s the situation with Father John Attwood?’

  ‘He’s in great danger but I can tell you he is safe right now. Don’t ask how I know – just accept it. Also in his case, there’s noth
ing about his background in our murder room files, although there will be in the CID offices at police headquarters. I suggest we don’t release that knowledge at this stage. Let’s keep things simple – our line of inquiry is that he’s an elderly monk who has vanished and we are concerned for his safety, even if it’s on the fringes of a murder inquiry. We are worried about him, that’s the official line. In the eyes of the public, that could be due to nothing more than absent mindedness – but someone may have noticed him somewhere. His dog collar and grey suit is a giveaway – if he’s still wearing them.’

  ‘So is it possible to keep all this to ourselves? Is it wise?’

  ‘We must keep this to ourselves, at least for the time being, Brian. If news of his disappearance gets into the news media, it could aggravate the risk of others trying to find him. It could generate huge public interest in whether or not he’s guilty. We don’t want that – not yet anyway. No news is sometimes good news. Now, what about that little monk with specs on? Father Will? He’s in the firing line for this crime as well, isn’t he? He must be in the frame as a suspect.’

  ‘A suspect? I never thought of him in that light!’

  ‘Well, he must be on our list of suspects or those who need to be proved innocent. Remember he occupied that confessional in place of Father John Attwood, didn’t he? And didn’t remove Father Attwood’s name.’

  ‘I thought he’d not altered the name sign simply because it never occurred to him.’

  ‘He would say that, wouldn’t he? And remember the stiletto was found there. We’ve got to look at things rather more closely now, Brian. We need to know whether he was manning that confessional when the stiletto was placed there, don’t we? And if he didn’t hide it there, who did?’

  ‘He was in there for an hour on Saturday, starting at six in the evening.’

  ‘Then his presence might be recorded on CCTV footage – except there is a back door into the confessional, the door used by the priests. So maybe he will not show up on that footage?’