Apparently, the Jesuit had read of the awful discovery of a young girl’s body and wondered if the family was Catholic. On being told that they were, indeed, he had asked for an audience with the priest, prior to a visit to the parents to offer solace and advice. The time of the meeting had been arranged for ten-thirty in the morning, following completion of the morning Mass. Graham and Clive would be there.
Replacing the phone, he attracted Clive’s attention and told him of the development. “Yes!” he exclaimed, “At last we can get him!”
“Get yourself off home, now, Clive,” instructed Graham, “And get a good night’s sleep. We need to be fresh and alert tomorrow.” The broad smiles on the men’s faces seemed in danger of becoming a permanent fixture.
As Clive left the still busy office, Graham picked up the internal telephone to speak to Sallie. His adrenalin was pumping now — and he needed sex! Another excuse to Bethany for his lateness home.
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
The following morning, at ten twenty-five, the two detectives observed the approach of a motor home as they sat parked outside the Catholic church on Horseshoe Road in Pangbourne.
As the vehicle came to a halt a few yards from their position, the Jesuit could clearly be recognised through the windscreen. Graham and his Sergeant moved out of their car and walked casually toward the Brother as he alighted.
Recognising the policemen, Ignatious greeted them with an open smile.
“Ah, detectives,” he boomed. “So nice to see you again.” He held out his hand. “What brings you here?”
Ignoring the extended arm, Graham spoke. “Brother Ignatious Saviour, I am arresting you on suspicion of the murder of Kylie Johnson, on, or about, the tenth of June two-thousand and one. You do not have to say anything…” The usual caution was issued as Clive snapped the handcuffs into place. Then, first checking that the motor home was secured, Clive led Ignatious to the police car and sat beside him in the rear. Before setting off, Graham contacted the Met. and arranged for someone to collect the motor home and take it back for inspection by himself and forensics. After all this time, all the investigating, all the soul-searching, the arrest had been completed so easily and quickly.
Later, after securing the brother in a cell, Graham and his assistant searched the now impounded motor home, together with a couple of forensic officers. In a cupboard, they found two bags containing bunches of hummingbird feathers, while in another cupboard, they discovered a number of small bottles containing fluids labelled with the names of various poisons; names that had become familiar to Graham from reading the pathology reports on the recent victims.
In the same cupboard, Clive spotted an unusual container, around six inches in height with a widening body to approximately twelve or fourteen inches circumference at the base. It resembled a bag of some kind and appeared to be made from leather or something like that. The smell of the container was of burnt timber. He removed the stopper, his hands protected by fine latex gloves, and sniffed. A bitter and unpleasant aroma invaded his nostrils causing him to recoil momentarily.
“What do you make of this, Graham?” he asked. Moving to his colleague’s side, the Inspector sniffed at the bag, his mind trying to locate the scent from deep into his subconscious. It was like nothing he had previously encountered. He thoughtfully replaced the stopper and told the forensic boys to mark this one as urgent and to have it analysed as quickly as possible. “I strongly suspect that it’s another one of the Jesuit’s poisons,” he remarked to Clive.
In a drawer, one of the forensic team found a batch of unusual implements, decided to be hypodermic syringes, beautifully fashioned, with dozens of carefully packed, small reed-like slivers next to them. They were carefully labelled and bagged along with all the other samples. The bed coverings were also removed and placed into larger plastic bags and, again, labelled.
Having seen nothing to otherwise link the Jesuit with the victims, the detectives left. They decided to have a quick lunch in the canteen and then interview the prisoner. Ignatious had already said that he did not have a solicitor but accepted the services of a local one, suggested by Graham, although he did not really care if he was represented or not.
By the time Graham had arrived at the interview room, fitted with all the necessary recording equipment, Ignatious’s solicitor, a Mr. Dennis McArdle, had arrived at the cells and taken brief notes from his client.
Joined by Clive, Graham rang through for the prisoner to be brought up.
Several minutes later, Ignatious was ushered in, flanked by two police officers and accompanied by his brief. Once everyone was seated, one of the officers left while the other remained close to the door, stood at ease, hands clasped behind his back.
McArdle lit up a cigar, without first seeking permission, as Graham explained to Ignatious what they were about to do. The interview was to be conducted on a question and answer basis, recorded, and Ignatious was free to explain his actions in fuller detail if he desired.
The recording equipment was switched on using two tapes, one for back up, and Graham began by stating the date and time and then detailing the names and ranks of those present.
He then moved to the questioning.
“Are you Brother Ignatious Saviour?” He looked into the Jesuit’s eyes and immediately regretted it. His head began to swim and he had a feeling of panic. Gathering himself together with some effort, he realised that, with this suspect, it would be better not to follow the normal pattern of studying the face for clues of lies and evasion, so he decided to direct his concentration more on the man’s chin. That way he would seem to be looking directly at the man and still able to glean something from the body language.
“That is the name my Holy Order has bestowed upon me,” answered Ignatious. “And the one which will remain to the end of my earthly days. However, my first given Christian name was Gawain Hadleigh.” His attitude was calm and controlled.
The questions went on to establish the Brother’s credentials; if he was, indeed, a true Jesuit priest and the dates of his entrance into priesthood and the brotherhood. The date of entry into Britain was elicited and the towns and villages visited, with dates and times given for each journey.
Ignatious described his given mission with enthusiasm, adding comment that he intended to continue with it into the future. Graham thought wryly how much of a future that would turn out to be. He fully expected a life term to be handed down by the courts.
“Can you say,” continued Graham, “that part of your mission is to end lives?”
“My concern, Inspector, is to save souls rather than lives. Lives are merely a preparation for the hereafter and to judge the goodness or otherwise of the feeble person. Feeble, that is, as compared to the awesome might of the Lord.”
Still directing his gaze to the Jesuit’s chin, Graham asked: “Do you believe, then, that those who do wrong go to a place called Hell in the next life?”
Ignatious remained calm, conversationalist. “I believe, Inspector, that the souls of the good will enjoy everlasting contentment at the next stage. Enjoyment and contentment will not be as we on earth understand it, as we will not possess bodies and nervous systems. We will be entities with a greater power of the earthly brain. You see, Inspector, the brain is our entity in our human form and it controls everything. It is not fully understood, as it was in the times of ancient Egypt, Greece and China.”
It seemed like a sermon, yet Graham was prepared to listen for as long as the Jesuit wished to speak. Such was the aura of the man. It may also elicit some hitherto missed clue. “And those who are considered to be bad?”