Elizabeth looked at him in puzzlement. “Brazil? Why Brazil?”
“It’s just somewhere he had lived for a while. I thought he might have mentioned it,” he said, dismissively. “Did he mention Hummingbirds to you?”
The questions were getting silly now. “Detective,” she said with some frustration. “What on earth are you talking about?”
“I appreciate that some of these questions may not mean much to you, but we need to build a fuller picture in our investigations.”
Elizabeth stared at the two. “Surely! Surely, you are not saying that you suspect the priest?” she snapped.
“I don’t imply anything at all, Mrs. Singleton. It’s merely a case of gathering as much information as we can. Many questions help to exonerate a suspect — not that I suggest the priest is a suspect,” he added hastily.
“I should hope not!” She then calmed. “I have told you all I can, detective. Is that all, now?”
“Just another couple of questions, then we’ll leave you in peace. “Did Debbie ever mention Brother Saviour to you? Or a priest, even?”
Elizabeth forced a tight-lipped smile. “For someone who you don’t suspect, you’re certainly asking a lot about him. No. She didn’t mention him, or a priest. I felt she was going to meet someone that day but it wasn’t a priest, I can assure you of that!”
“How can you be so sure, Mrs. Singleton?”
“Because, Debbie was wearing make-up and I could smell a faint aroma of perfume.” She smiled. “It doesn’t sound like she would be meeting a man of God, exactly, does it?”
Graham went on to his next concern. “Your ex-husband, Thomas, Mrs. Singleton.”
“Yes.”
“Was he present when the Jesuit paid you a visit?”
“No. He had to get back to his woman!” The bitterness was evident. “She used to be my best friend, too!” she spat. “What are friends for? Not for taking your husband, that’s for sure! As much as I hated him then, it hurt me a lot when I found out he had been murdered.”
The guilt again invaded Graham. “As far as you know, did the Jesuit visit him at his home, or somewhere?”
“Yes. I understand from Father McGiven that he spoke to Thomas at the church.”
“Did Father McGiven tell you what the conversation was about?”
Elizabeth was becoming angry now. She didn’t want all these questions. She’d had enough. “Certainly not! He is a priest you know! Confidentiality and all that?”
There was nothing to be learned here, Graham decided, so he offered his apologies, thanking Mrs. Singleton for giving them her time, and left. She was glad to be rid of them and began to dust and polish the furniture furiously, allowing the anger to dissipate with the effort. It would take time.
“Father McGiven next,” said Graham as they left the Singleton home.
“Well, we didn’t learn anything there, did we?” replied Clive, “perhaps we’ll have better luck with the priest.”
Clive again took the wheel and moved in the direction of St. Mary’s. “Do you think we will learn anything that we don’t already know, Graham?”
A shrug of the DI’s shoulders indicated a semblance of uncertainty. “What I’m looking for,” he said, slowly, deep in thought, “is something to confirm my theories; some comment that may tie the Jesuit into the murders. Every little helps, Clive. Like with Mrs. Singleton. She proved that the man has a powerful effect on people — I’ve actually experienced it myself. He somehow causes confusion in the brain; his presence tends to take over. It’s difficult to explain but, as you will find out whenever you meet him, you feel like throwing yourself at his feet and begging forgiveness for everything that you have ever done wrong. Weird.”
Clive cast a sidelong glance at his boss, wondering if the case was tipping him over the edge. “Mmm,” was his only comment.
“Mrs. Singleton,” continued Graham, “has clearly been affected by him. You’d have thought my questions about the Jesuit were sacrilegious. And, one other thing, she told us that he had spoken to her ex-husband before his death.”
“What difference does that make?” ventured Clive.
“It’s the first time he has been linked to a victim prior to death. Before, we understood that he always arrived on the scene after discovery of the body. Small thing but another tiny step forward.
Arriving unannounced at the vestry of St. Mary’s, the detectives were relieved to find Father McGiven in a welcoming mood. “Come in. Come in,” he urged. “Let me get you a cup of tea and something to eat.”
The offer was eagerly accepted as the men sat at the priest’s invitation, while he called from the door leading into the church to Mrs. Collins, his general help: “Three teas and some hot, buttered toasted teacakes, if you will, please.” Smiling at her he closed the door and returned to his guests. “So very nice to see you again, Detective Inspector. I expect you are here about the Jesuit, are you?”
Graham confirmed the nature of his visit and introduced Clive to the priest. “I’m sorry to trouble you again, Father,” he said. “I’m trying to find some order in these awful killings and I must explore every avenue.”
“Quite. If I can be of any assistance at all?”
The ensuing conversation went smoothly, the questions from the detectives being put in a conversational way, almost as though in praise of the mysterious Brother and showing keen interest in the stories he’d told to Father McGiven in their earlier meetings. The priest was enthusiastic in his recounting; it was clear that the Jesuit was some kind of a hero to him and, to Graham, demonstrated the effect transmitted by the holy man.
Without arousing their host’s suspicion in any way, it was discovered that the first time he had met the Jesuit was after the death of Debbie. He was quite certain of this, the meeting having been occasioned as a result of the murder and the desire to comfort the bereaved. Graham had hoped that a link could have been made prior to the death but it was no great setback. However, Father McGiven confirmed that Brother Saviour had spoken to Thomas Singleton before his untimely end and that he had seen Thomas to his car afterwards.
“Did they talk again after the meeting here, Father?” queried Clive.
“Only at the car. They chatted for a few minutes and then Mr. Singleton left.”
“How did Mr. Singleton appear to you as he left? Did he seem agitated, or worried at all?”
“Oh, no. Not at all. Quite the opposite I would say. Smiling — relieved even.”
Clive persisted. “Did the Jesuit tell you what they had chatted about, Father?”
“No. I never asked and he didn’t say. Why, is it important?”
Clive smiled. “Just trying to build the picture, Father. It’s possible Mr. Singleton may have given some clue as to whom he was intending to meet,” he continued.
The priest nodded. “Ah, I see. Yes, I suppose that could have been of some importance.”
Graham then spoke. “There was another killing quite nearby, Father.”
“Yes, a young teacher. Terrible business. This is a reasonably quiet area, yet we have had this spate of suspicious deaths and all in the course of a few weeks. I fail to understand it.” He shook his head in disbelief.
“Was he one of your parishioners, Father?”
“Yes, he was a regular at Mass and at confession. I understand he was an excellent teacher, also.” He looked at Graham quizzically. “Is his murder linked, Detective Inspector?” he asked in surprise.
“There are still vital pieces of evidence as yet missing but, yes, I do believe that all the recent killings are the work of one person.”
The priest sank back into his chair. “Oh,” he said quietly. “And you think Brother Saviour may have obtained some knowledge, somewhere along the line, of whom the killer might be?”
Graham shrugged his shoulders. “Yes, Father, that’s what I’m hoping. He has met people directly involved with the victims — apart from Maddigan, that is — and he has a way of opening people up. They will probably tell him things they wouldn’t normally disclose. He could be of great value to us.”