Devotion to Murder

by Steve Eastwood

  Cooper was intent on getting into the office as early as he could to read the witness statements in preparation for the morning briefing. So, he called in at Fred’s Café for an egg sandwich, to be consumed at his desk.

  As he made his way along the High Street, he was thinking about the previous day’s exchange with Lord Roding. I’m sure he’s going to make a complaint to the chief constable’s office, but it’s too bloody late now. Perhaps I could have been a bit more diplomatic, but his sense of superiority and entitlement gets right up your nose.

  Then he remembered the revelation made by Aunt Sadie that had led him to realise that Linda Collins was the niece of Tom Stockwell. I’ll have to keep that piece of information to myself, for now. In fairness, she can’t help who she’s related to. Still a bloody tricky situation, all the same.

  Cooper entered the foyer of the police station and exchanged greetings with the front-office constable as he was let in through the wicket door. He made his way up to the CID office and hung up his jacket. It was too early for the trolley, so, after retrieving a mug and the makings from his locker, he made himself tea from the hot-water tap in the gent’s toilet. I really must stop drinking this crap, he thought to himself. He wondered about the hygiene aspect of drinking straight from the hot-water tank.

  He got to his desk and started on the witness statements sitting in his in tray.

  Later that morning Cooper convened a meeting of the murder team.

  Brian Pratt spoke first and related the details of his visit to Westminster Cathedral. Once again, Father Thomas was not available and so he had left the letter with his secretary, who confirmed the fact by signing his pocket notebook. He also provided a summary of the witness statements taken since the last meeting.

  This was followed by Brendan Withers giving an account of the search of Sister Margaret’s bedroom. ‘Initially, we carried out a search for fingerprints and traces of blood on the various surfaces. There was a complete absence of blood as far as we could see. We lifted some fingerprints from the inside of the bedroom door, the window, the sill and the dressing table. We still need to complete taking elimination fingerprints from a few of the staff. There’s only a couple left to do.’

  ‘Fine. Thank you, Brendan. Sounds as though you are making progress.’

  ‘Oh, and there was another thing that occurred to me, governor. Do you want us to ask his lordship for his fingerprints, leave it, or do you want to broach the subject with him yourself?’ enquired Withers.

  ‘Of course, we need them. You can ask him Brendan. Why should he be treated any differently? But be careful. He’s a bit prickly at present. We will need to do the same with Lady Fanny as well, when we finally get along to see her. Dignity is a fine thing, but their prints are essential.’

  ‘Right you are, governor. Getting back to the room, we carried out a physical search. There wasn’t a lot there, really. A spare habit and wimple were hanging in the wardrobe with another pair of “sensible” shoes. There were no civilian clothes present, apart from some underwear in the drawer: a brassiere, slips and things. Quite surprised me, really; they were sexy, pink, frilly jobs. Not what one might expect a nun to wear underneath her habit. But then who am I to speculate about that?’

  DC Rogers, the office wag, had a mischievous glint in his eye, stifled a titter and nearly made an inappropriate remark about rude habits, but he thought better of it. In anticipation, Cooper and Pratt both gave Rogers a menacing stare as there were female officers present; they would have leapt on him as soon as he opened his mouth. But there was no need for them to do so. The lad, for once, pulled himself up just short of embarrassing himself.

  Withers ploughed on, ‘Pair of dirty knickers on the floor under the bed. We have taken those, and we are testing them for any traces of semen. What else? The religious books one might expect, a Bible and a book I think they call a catechism. Also, there was a diary and a letter you’ll be interested in, sir. The letter purports to be from Lady Fanny and is quite threatening in its tone. I have it here. Would you like me to read it out?’

  ‘Please do, Brendan,’ said Cooper.

  Withers read aloud, ‘I quote. “Sister Margaret, I am writing to you to give you a warning. Someone told me that you have been talking to his lordship about the state of our marriage. This is something that I won’t put up with. It’s got nothing to do with you. You are a guest in our house and you are here to give my husband advice about the Church, so he can become a Catholic. Nothing more! If you carry on talking about our marriage, I will deal with you!” signed Lady Francine Roding and dated 4th July 1949.’

  ‘Thank you, Brendan,’ said Cooper. ‘It does sound quite an angry letter. It’s certainly the nearest sign we have of a motive and it gives us a line of enquiry. We need to see her as soon as we can and ask her whether she can prove her whereabouts for the time of the murder.’ He continued, ‘Ian, will you have a good look through the victim’s diary, please? Obviously, if there is anything of interest, let me know.’

  ‘Yes, sir, will do,’ replied Mills.

  Withers chipped in again, ‘One other thing. It did strike me as odd that there was a total absence of any personal documentation, such as a passport, identity card or any ration book. There was no validation for her being in this country at all.’

  ‘Really?’ said Cooper. ‘She must have travelled to the UK using some form of documentation. As for a ration book, if Lord Roding was going to feed her while she was here, but didn’t want to explain her presence, then she may not have needed to apply for one of her own.’

  ‘Maybe Lord Roding has locked her documents away in his safe,’ speculated Pratt.

  Cooper acknowledged the possibility. ‘Brian, perhaps you would check that and have a word with his lordship?’

  ‘Will do, governor. I’ll go there with Brendan. That way we can back each other up if he has one of his tantrums.’

  ‘What about the murder site, Brendan? Was anything else found there?’

  ‘No, nothing that wasn’t mentioned during the post mortem. There was no blood found or bodily fluids other than those of the victim. The murder weapon certainly appears to be the spade. The victim’s blood was on the leading edge, and, as you know, sir, the pathologist was quite satisfied when he carried out a physical comparison between the spade and the wounds.’

  ‘What about the crucifix?’ said Pratt, ‘Did you find it when you moved the body?’

  ‘No. That’s still missing. We did find a couple of chain links that appear to have been broken off during the attack. They were underneath the body. It looks as though it was snatched from her neck.’

  ‘Anything else?’

  ‘That’s it for now, sir.’

  ‘Sorry, governor, there were a couple of other things I was going to mention,’ said Pratt, ‘I telephoned the office of Father Thomas at Westminster Cathedral this morning to follow up on the letter, but he wasn’t available to speak to me. So, I left a message with his secretary for him to give us a call. The other thing was that there is quite an interesting statement from his lordship’s nurse, Adina Jenkins. Shall I read it out, governor?’

  ‘Please do, Brian.’

  Pratt read the statement aloud, ‘“I live within the main house on the family estate of Lord and Lady Roding at Beaumont Hall, Beaumont, near Colchester, Essex. I live with my husband, Raymond, who is his lordship’s butler. Our apartment is located on the south side of the Hall. The summerhouse is on the other side of the building. I have lived on the estate since 1945, but I have been employed on the estate as Lord Roding’s nurse since 1947. I am aware Sister Margaret has been staying at the Hall for a few weeks as a house guest. I have spoken to her on a few occasions as she spends a lot of time with his lordship. I have found her quite pleasant although a bit shy. I did not speak to Sister Margaret on the day she was found dead. I have been asked by the police where I was during that day. His
lordship spent most of the day resting in his rooms. I was with him for two short periods, although I returned to our apartment afterwards to do some washing and prepare Raymond’s meals. One thing that does occur to me is that, about 4.30pm, I went to the bedroom and gave his lordship his medicine. As I was doing so I looked out of the window that faces onto the lawn and the summerhouse. I saw Savage, the gardener, who was seated on the bench with Sister Margaret. They were chatting in quite a friendly way. I have been asked about whether I could be mistaken. I am sure it was Savage. The weather was fine and clear, and I had a clear view of him, which was not obstructed in any way. I have spoken to Savage on several occasions as I enjoy his company. He is a bit of a joker and he has been teaching me how to swear in English.”’

  ‘Mr Savage didn’t mention he had been speaking to Sister Margaret in the statement you took from him, did he, Brian?’

  ‘No, governor. He didn’t,’ confirmed Pratt.

  Mills handed a typed copy of Savage’s statement to Cooper.

  ‘We’ll have to interview him about that. It was his spade that was used to kill her and, according to this statement, he was one of the last to see her alive. There is still the question of blood-stained clothing, so we need to get into his house and the buildings he uses on the estate to search for them.’

  ‘Do you want me to nick him then, governor?’

  ‘I think we’ll have to, Brian. I don’t want any fanfare or anything appearing in the press, so we need to do this discreetly. That includes keeping it low key within the station. Brian, you took his original statement, so I want you to carry out the arrest of Mr Savage with Miss Collins. Ian, DC Rogers and Scenes of Crime will carry out the searches. I’ll be there as well. I’ll speak to Lord Roding to let him know what is happening and the grounds for the arrest. Bearing in mind our star witness, Adina, is still on the estate, we’ll need to alert his lordship to the possible staff problems that might arise, if or when Savage is bailed. I also want to get his consent to search the buildings.’

  ‘Do you want us to bring Savage to Colchester or take him to Harwich, governor?’

  ‘We’ll bring him here, Brian. I’ll go and speak to the station sergeant and explain the need for it to be kept as quiet as possible. I’ll only say this once ladies and gents: I want us to keep this to ourselves. We might have the right man, but we might not. So, we say nothing to people outside of the team and we assume nothing. I’m off to inform Mr Stockwell. I want us all back here, ready to leave, at 11.30am.’ The team dispersed to get their things together.

  *

  Early that afternoon, the front door of Keeper’s Cottage was opened by a bewildered-looking Stephen Savage, who was fighting to prevent two barking black Labradors from bursting out into the front garden. Brian Pratt was on the doorstep with Linda Collins. The other officers were in a second car parked further up the road, but in sight of the officers at the front door.

  ‘Sergeant Pratt, just a minute. Let me deal with these two!’ He slammed the front door shut, and, through the translucent glass of the front door, Pratt watched him struggle with the two dogs, finally managing to shut them in the kitchen. He then returned to open the front door.

  ‘Sorry about that, Sergeant. They are a lively pair of buggers, but they don’t bite. More of a nuisance really. How can I help you?’

  ‘Stephen, is it all right if we come in?’

  ‘Yes, please do come in. Would you like a cup of tea?’

  ‘Not now, thanks. There is something I need to explain to you,’ said Pratt.

  ‘Come through.’ Savage led them into the front room.

  ‘Stephen, when I took your witness statement from you a few days ago, you told me you were digging near the summerhouse until about 3.30pm. Then you left that area and went to the workshop. Is that right?’

  ‘Yes, that’s right.’

  ‘And you left the spade dug into the ground?’

  ‘Yes, I did.’

  ‘Did you go back to the area where you left the spade at all, later in the day?’

  ‘No, I didn’t.’

  ‘We have a witness statement from somebody who says they saw you sitting talking to Sister Margaret later, at around 4.30pm, outside the summerhouse.’

  ‘Well, that’s not right.’

  ‘What we must do now, Stephen, is formally arrest you and search your premises. Then you’ll be taken to the police station to be interviewed by me and my colleague Linda. It’ll be very discreet, so don’t worry. So, Stephen Savage, I am arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Sister Margaret,’ Pratt cautioned him.

  Savage was stunned; he stumbled back against a wall and started to hyperventilate. Pratt took his arm, eased him onto a chair in the hallway and urged him to take a series of deep breaths to regulate his breathing. “Don’t worry?” Brian knew he’d said something stupid as soon as the words had left his lips. To have to arrest Savage was an unpleasant duty and he felt sorry for him. How was Savage supposed to not worry?

  After a few minutes, Savage seemed to recover his senses and Pratt escorted him to the living room.

  ‘What about the dogs?’

  ‘Don’t worry, Stephen. We’ll have them looked after.’

  ‘Please don’t put me in handcuffs, Sergeant Pratt.’

  ‘That won’t be necessary. We’re going to the police station where I intend to interview you straight away. Stephen, please be assured, we’re not in the business of locking people up and throwing the key away.’

  Savage didn’t look at all convinced.

  ‘Thing is, Stephen, to do the job properly, we’re going to have to search the house. I’m sure you understand.’

  Savage was still dumbstruck and just nodded.

  Pratt turned to Collins and said, ‘Linda, will you nip outside and call the others in, so they can get on with the search?’

  Collins left the house.

  ‘What about the dog’s food?’

  ‘Don’t worry about the dogs, we’ll arrange to have them fed if necessary.’

  Brian Pratt was a man who was outwardly bluff. A man’s man. Inwardly, he was intelligent and sensitive, and he was very good at reading people. To him, the arrest of Savage didn’t seem right. It was a procedural necessity, of course. But, in his heart of hearts, Pratt didn’t really believe that they had arrested their murderer. Collins returned a couple of minutes later.

  Leaving Ian Mills and his team to carry on with the rest of the search, Collins and Pratt drove Savage to the police station, where, on arrival, the facts surrounding the arrest were related to the station sergeant by Linda.

  ‘Do you want to place Mr Savage in a cell?’ asked the Sergeant, ‘Or do you want to go straight to interview?’

  ‘Straight to interview, please, Sarge.’

  *

  ‘You’ve done what?’ said Lord Roding, indignantly.

  ‘We have arrested your gardener, Stephen Savage, for the murder of Sister Margaret,’ said Cooper.

  ‘But why? He can’t have done it. He’s been with us for years.’

  ‘What prompted his arrest, my lord, is a witness statement given to us by Adina Jenkins in which she states that, while she was giving you your medication during the afternoon of the murder, she looked through the window and saw Savage outside speaking to Sister Margaret. They were apparently both seated on the bench in front of the summerhouse. This was about 4.30pm.’

  ‘She didn’t mention it to me at the time.’

  ‘Well, I would imagine, at that time, it was of no real consequence, my lord.’

  ‘No, I imagine it wasn’t.’

  ‘And, of course, those circumstances, taken together with the fact that it was his spade that was the murder weapon, means we really should consider him a suspect.’

  ‘Yes, I see,’ his lordship sighed. ‘Oh dear. Bloody tragedy if it does turn out t
o have been Savage. He’s a good man and a damned fine gardener. No, I can’t believe he’s capable of such a thing.’

  ‘It’s not a foregone conclusion, my lord. In all cases, we are required to prove guilt by adducing evidence and although we had grounds to arrest him we are a long way from having enough proof to charge him with anything. We will keep an open mind.’

  ‘So, what happens now?’

  ‘He’ll be interviewed at the police station.’

  ‘Does he need a solicitor?’

  ‘As we’re investigating an offence of murder, I would say he does, my lord.’

  ‘Please tell him, Inspector, that I’ll cover his legal costs. I’ll speak to Geoffrey Green, who is our family solicitor, and arrange for him to receive representation, if it becomes necessary.’

  ‘Which company of solicitors would that be, my lord?’

  ‘Green and Green, of course. Will he get bail, do you think?’

  ‘Too early to say, my lord.’

  ‘I understand. I imagine these things take time.’

  ‘They do. Also, there are a couple of other matters I need to discuss with you.’

  ‘And what would they be, Inspector?’

  ‘First, my lord, we need your consent to search Savage’s places of work. The workshop, greenhouse and anywhere else he might have regular access to. We’d be looking for blood-stained clothing.’

  ‘Yes, you have that, of course. Obviously, I don’t want you to enter staff living quarters or even my own rooms, come to that. Nor do I want you rooting around in my study. If it becomes at all necessary, then speak to me about it.’

  ‘I will, my lord. Thank you. The other matter I wish to speak to you about is the question of discretion and the ongoing harmony within the Hall, as far as witnesses are concerned. It might seem to you to be an alien term, but most of your staff come into that category. We’re inclined to keep Mr Savage’s arrest low key for now, but, should he be charged with the murder, then, of course, the situation will change. We would apply to the magistrates to have him remanded in custody, and the fact of his arrest would be in the public domain, with coverage in the national press being a distinct possibility.’