Cooper did not share the fact that enquiries with Father O’Leary had already been carried out, although he imagined that, Beaumont being a small and close community, it would probably have already reached his lordship’s ears.
‘What about her painting? Did she ever sell or exhibit any of her work in this area?’ asked Pratt.
‘No, not to my knowledge. Though she was quite prolific, and I know she took a lot of pleasure from her painting. In fact, she was something of a perfectionist and I’m sure she would not have dreamed of selling a piece of her work unless it was absolutely to her liking. She seemed to destroy as much as she created, you know. Typical woman. Never satisfied, you see. The only example of her work that remains, apart from the landscape she was working on, is the painting still hanging in her room. She framed and hung it herself. Seems she was quite satisfied with that one,’ explained Jeremy.
‘Do you think that we could see it, my lord?’
‘Yes, of course. I will have Jenkins get the key to her room and escort you. I’m not too good on the old pins these days I’m afraid, so I will leave it to him if you don’t mind.’ Jeremy poured himself another glass of Pimm’s.
They followed Jenkins to the kitchen, where he took a key from the desk drawer in the office. He then led them up two flights of stairs, and, as they reached Sister Margaret’s room, he produced the key from his pocket and unlocked the door. The room looked much as they had left it with the additional signs of fingerprint powder that had been tactically smeared on various surfaces.
The painting was hanging above the bed, which had, by then, been stripped of linen and consisted of just the frame and mattress. Cooper pulled the bedstead away from wall and stepped around it. He stood and admired the painting for a few seconds then removed it from the wall and placed it on the dressing table.
The painting depicted an image of Jesus Christ rising from the midst of a dense pine forest. To Cooper’s untrained eye it appeared to be a very skilful piece of work. Even for one as thick skinned as himself, he realised that there was some spiritual meaning to it and he wondered about the inspiration behind it. Had she really painted it herself or had she just acquired it from somewhere?
He turned to Jenkins and said, ‘Do you know anything about the provenance of this painting, Mr Jenkins?’
‘Yes, Inspector. It’s all her own work. She painted it during her time here at the Hall. I actually remember complimenting her when I saw her working on it in the summerhouse.’
‘Did she make any comment to you or say anything about the meaning behind it at all?’
‘Nothing that I recall, beyond her just saying a polite thank you.’
To his knowledge, there were no pine forests in the area and so Cooper came to the obvious conclusion that the picture had been painted from her memory or her imagination. He turned the picture over to examine the reverse side of the frame. On running his fingers over the rear of the canvas he detected a raised area in both bottom corners.
‘Have you got a pen knife on you, Brian?’
‘You are not going to damage the painting, are you, Inspector?’ said Jenkins plaintively.
‘No, Mr Jenkins. I assure you I won’t cause any damage unless it’s absolutely necessary.’
Cooper took the knife offered to him and he unfolded one of the blades. He then used it to make an incision around the inside of the relevant corner of the frame and removed the backing sheet, which released a wallet-sized bundle of papers.
‘Hello. What have we got here, Brian?’
Cooper, with Pratt at his shoulder, examined the articles, which consisted of a passport and a ticket. He examined the front of the passport, which was light blue in colour and bore the words “Vatican State” in gold leaf. On opening it, he saw the face of Sister Margaret staring back at him. It occurred to him that she had been a very attractive young woman and that she could probably have got a lot more out of life. He chided himself for being so shallow minded.
The name and the other details were very interesting. She had held the name of Sr Margaret of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. It showed that she had been born in Graz, Austria, on 23rd March 1919. Furthermore, that the passport was issued as a diplomatic passport (under the Vatican Citizenship Code of 1929) on the 8th May 1949. There were only three immigration stamps on the inside pages. The first evidenced the holder’s entry to the Netherlands on 16th May 1949 and her departure from Hook van Holland on 17th May 1949. The final stamp evidenced her entry to the UK at the port of Harwich on 18th May 1949.
On examining the ticket, Cooper found that it related to a one-way sailing from Hook van Holland for the night of 17th May 1949 aboard the MV Koeningin Wilhelmina for arrival at the port of Harwich the next morning. There were no payment details shown on the ticket.
Cooper returned to the rear of the canvas and ran his fingers carefully within the backing sheet. He produced a small bundle of bank notes. On examining them, he saw that they were denominated in Austrian schillings, deutschmarks and Dutch guilders. ‘We shall have to take the painting as well as the passport, cash and ticket, Mr Jenkins,’ stated Cooper, ‘Clearly, they are likely to be of evidential value. But, of course, we’ll give you a receipt for all of the items.’
In company with Jenkins, the two detectives returned to the garden to share their revelation with his lordship. Since they had only seen the victim following her demise, they showed him the passport photograph for his identification. He had seen her in life and had spent a lot of time with the woman.
‘Yes, that is our dear Sister Margaret,’ He said sadly, almost breaking down in tears.
‘Did she ever show this passport to you, my lord?’ asked Pratt who held it open to prevent his lordship from touching it.
‘No. I haven’t seen it at all, before now.’
Jenkins agreed that he had never laid eyes on the documents either.
‘My lord, we just need to take a few lines from Mr Jenkins and yourself in relation to this discovery, and then we will leave you in peace.’
They each set to work taking a witness statement from his lordship and Jenkins to prove the provenance of the painting, and, in Jenkins’ case, to also confirm the discovery of the documents. Pratt issued a receipt.
In the presence of Jenkins and Lord Jeremy the officers were at pains to maintain an air of quiet dignity and professionalism. However, after taking their leave and on their way back to the police station, they could not wipe the grin from their faces. They were elated.
‘This takes us a lot further forward, Brian. Now we can wave this under the noses of the Catholic Church; that should get a response!’
At last they had some positive news for the troops and it would raise morale no end.
16
DAY SIXTEEN
Wednesday 27th July 1949
‘Stockwell speaking.’
‘Good morning, sir. DI Cooper here. I thought I would call you and just bring you up to date on some good news to do with our murder enquiry.’
‘Sounds encouraging, Albert. Go ahead.’
Cooper related the details of the visit to Beaumont Hall and described the items found in the picture frame.
‘What kind of passport was it?’
‘It was a diplomatic passport issued by officials at the Vatican. I must confess, I didn’t even know that the Vatican State issued diplomatic passports.’
‘What name was on the passport?’
‘It gives her name as Sister Margaret of the Sacred Heart of Jesus. It shows that she was born in Graz, Austria, on the 23rd March 1919. The passport itself was issued on 8th May 1949.’
‘It sounds like it was issued specially for this particular journey,’ observed Stockwell.
‘Yes, it does, sir. I think this represents our first bit of luck.’
‘Indeed, Albert, but I wonder why Scenes of Crime didn’t find it when the
y searched her room the first time.’
Oh, for Christ’s sake, Thought Cooper, why don’t you just try to be positive for once?
‘To be fair, sir. It was well hidden, and these things do sometimes get missed.
‘Well, I suppose so. But one wonders why, if everything was above board, she would need to hide her passport?’
‘Yes. A good point. Why indeed, sir.’
‘We need to get to the bottom of this woman.’
Yes, of course we do. That’s bloody obvious.
‘I’m going to get Miss Collins to make some enquiries with Immigration at Harwich. That might reveal something more about her status.’
‘Good. I would imagine that it’s not every day that a Vatican State passport is produced at Harwich Passport Control let alone a diplomatic one, so they should remember her. If Immigration get a bit precious, let me know and I’ll get Special Branch on to it.’
‘How much does the foreign currency come to?’
‘Well, sir, there were one hundred and fifty deutschmarks, sixty schillings and twenty-five guilders. All in notes.’
‘Probably comes to about 150 to 200 pounds. A not insignificant sum. Please make sure it goes into the admin safe, will you?’
Cooper shook his head in despair.
‘Will do, sir.’
‘Oh, and Albert…’
‘Sir?’
‘Well done.’
*
In the absence of Cooper, Brian Pratt briefed the team about the finding of the passport and ferry ticket, and he highlighted the relevant dates of travel through the Netherlands to Harwich.
‘Job for you Linda, I think,’ said Ian Mills. ‘We need you to go Parkeston Quay to see what Immigration have on her arrival in this country.’
‘See me afterwards, Linda, and I’ll give you the details,’ said Pratt.
‘Is it right that you recovered some foreign currency at the same time, Sarge?’ asked Jane.
‘Yes, one hundred and fifty deutschmarks, sixty Austrian schillings and twenty-five Dutch guilders. All in notes. They were also in the back frame of the painting.’
‘Seems to indicate that she spent some time in Austria and Germany. Otherwise why have marks and schillings at all?’ said Linda.
‘Unless she was going on to those countries after she finished her work at Beaumont Hall,’ suggested Mills.
‘Possible, I suppose,’ said Pratt.
‘Who had the job to speak to the taxi firms?’ asked Mills.
‘I’ve got it now, Sarge,’ said Rogers.
‘Any joy there?’
‘Not yet. I’m about half way through them. Do you want me to visit the Harwich taxi companies as well now?’ said Rogers displaying uncharacteristic initiative.
‘Please do,’ said Mills. ‘Right, what else was there? Enquiries to be made in respect of the two anonymous calls and the information regarding James Davidson. Who had those jobs?’
Linda Collins put her hand in the air. ‘I had both the James Davidson job and the one for Raymond Jenkins, Sergeant.’
‘Let’s take Davidson first.’
‘Yes. Well, I went to see Master Davidson at the Hall and I asked him about the allegation that he was caught out of bounds in private quarters by Sister Margaret. He was quite straightforward and said that it did happen, but that it was not long after she had arrived at the Hall herself. He did genuinely think that there was an intruder and he is adamant about it.’
‘Fine. So, you are happy with him, then?’
‘If you’re asking whether I think that he could have committed the murder, I would say not.’
‘Even if he was creeping around, out of bounds, it doesn’t make him a murderer,’ added Jane Stewart.
‘Also, a major point is that, although he was the one who found her, he had no blood on him. Whoever killed her would have been heavily blood stained. He would have had no chance of changing his shirt; also, he was under the watchful eyes of Mrs Aldis and Jenkins during the relevant time.’
‘That’s a fair point, Linda. I think that we can rule him out,’ said Pratt.
‘And what about Raymond Jenkins?’
‘That was pretty straightforward. Yes, he does sometimes stay over at Bedford Square when her ladyship needs him for an engagement the day after he has delivered her there. His lordship doesn’t need the Rolls much himself these days. As for the nun, he said that she was pleasant enough as far as he was concerned, but she was rude to the junior members of staff. As for being besotted with her, he said that that was complete nonsense.’
‘Thank you, Linda. Do we have anything on the missing crucifix?’ asked Pratt.
‘Nothing on that, Brian,’ said Ian Mills, ‘Bob Scott and his team did a thorough search over a quarter mile radius of the scene. Nothing was found at all. But you’ll remember that Scenes of Crime did find a couple of loose links under the body that seem to indicate that the crucifix was wrenched from her neck.’
‘OK. Unless there is anything else folks, we’ll leave it there for now. Thank you.’
The officers filed out of the room to get on with the day’s business.
*
‘What the bloody hell am I going to do now, Glad?’ said Mavis, tears streaming down her face. She was nursing a glass of ginger wine, which her sister had provided for her, and they were both on their third cigarette. They were sitting in the front room of Gladys Munson’s terraced house, in Chapel Street, which was located only a stone’s throw from the town centre.
‘I’ve only a few pounds in the bank and I’ve got to pay the rent somehow.’
‘Well, if you find that you can’t pay the rent, you can always move in with us for a while. I’m sure Colin wouldn’t mind too much,’ said Gladys, tongue in cheek, knowing that her husband Colin couldn’t stand Mavis at any price.
She felt, privately, that this was the least she could do for her sister having coaxed her continually to provide titbits of information from her job at the police station. By any objective assessment, Gladys had used her sister for her own ends. Now, having pushed her too far, it had come back to haunt them, and Gladys felt terrible about it.
It was now obvious to her that the police, having had their suspicions, had set Mavis up by feeding false information in her direction and that Mavis had taken the bait. Consequently, Mavis was now suspended from her job, and would be lucky not to face prosecution on charges of corruption. Apart from Gladys though, Mavis only had herself to blame.
Compounding her own humiliation was the fact that Gladys had been embarrassed in front of her peers during the so-called “police press conference”, when her “exclusive” report for the East Anglian Recorder had been torn to shreds. Following this excoriating experience, her editor, Tony Swayze, who had held her in such high regard, had given her a very serious dressing down on her return to the office. Only two things had saved her from the sack. Firstly, Tony Swayze and Gladys Munson were lovers, and they had been so for a couple of years. As Swayze did not relish the possibility of his wife finding out about their relationship, he didn’t dare dismiss Gladys and he needed to contain the threat. Secondly, Swayze, had been aware of the information from the outset and he should have ensured that some enquiries were undertaken to verify it before publication. To that extent, he would also be culpable in the eyes of his directors should they learn of his lack of due diligence.
Swayze knew the identity of the source, and had, on several occasions, been on the end of Gladys’s entreaties about Mavis and her unrivalled access to command decisions. He had to accept the fact that familiarity and his own poor judgement had allowed this situation to develop. He was going to have to, somehow, find redemption or draw a veil over the matter.
So how would they redeem the situation? After Swayze’s attack on Gladys’s professionalism and the resultant tears, they kissed and
made up. He was on a very sticky wicket indeed and felt that the only course open to them was to make a concerted effort to get to the bottom of the nun’s murder by sound investigative journalism based on verifiable information.
He resolved that the next time they went to print on this subject, the product would be explosive and beyond scrutiny.
17
DAY SEVENTEEN
Thursday 28th July 1949
‘But why don’t you just get a taxi, my love? It would be far easier than having Jenkins go all the way to London just to drive you to a social function, wouldn’t it?’
‘Yes, darling, but the function is in Richmond. It’s too far out for a taxi. It would cost a bloody fortune,’ said Fanny.
‘Well, if it’s so far out, why agree to attend the blessed thing simply because someone invited you? You don’t have to go to every function that you are invited to, surely?’
‘But, Jeremy, darling, I did promise Felicity that I would attend, and I really don’t want to let her down. Not only that, I shall be coming home tomorrow, and you know what the trains are like these days: they are a bloody disaster. This way Jenkins can drive me to the function and then home tomorrow. It does make sense, darling.’
‘Well, let me ask Jenkins if he is able to fit this all in. He does have a life of his own, you know, and he has plenty to do here.’
His lordship put his hand over the mouthpiece of the telephone.
‘Jenkins, her ladyship wonders whether it would be possible for you to go to London today to drive her to a function in Richmond this evening. It would entail you staying overnight in Bedford Square and bringing her back to Beaumont tomorrow. Would this cause you a problem?’
‘No problem at all, my lord. I am sure that Adina would be able to make herself available to assist you while I’m away.’
‘Thank you, Jenkins.’ His lordship returned to the telephone. ‘OK, so be it then, darling. What time will you need Jenkins to be there?’
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