Steven was excited by the comment, but concentrated on not showing it.
‘When I told him that I intended to pursue the research Paul and Carrie had been engaged in by using an alternative approach, he tried to dissuade me. At first, he said that he understood that my faith must have been shaken by what had happened, but it would recover and perhaps it would be for the best if I moved away from that type of research altogether. When I told him I was determined to pursue the truth and that I owed that to Paul and Carrie... he became quite aggressive and insisted that I would only end up damaging the church I loved... I should reconsider... and desist.’
‘I see,’ said Steven. He could see that Dorothy was now thinking what he was thinking.
‘Oh, God, surely not...’ she murmured. ‘He’s a priest!’
Steven considered calling a halt, but then risked one last prod. ‘Tell me about Bishop Stanley.’
The gamble worked. Dorothy escaped from the agony of suspicion to concentrate on her friendship with the bishop.
‘He was my rock when I was in the USA. It’s not easy being a scientist and keeping a strong faith. Charles is very old school and often disagrees with what he sees as pandering to popular taste. Despite the dangers of defying papal authority, he continues to hold mass in Latin. He saw that as a great unifying factor; you could experience the same service all over the world and feel equally at home attending mass in Paraguay or wherever as you would in Rome. He regarded saying mass in the language of the country as divisive populist rubbish. I agreed with him.’
‘A man of strong conviction,’ said Steven.
Dorothy gave Steven a suspicious look.
Before she could mount any kind of pre-emptive defence of her friend, Steven asked, ‘What was his connection to Father Crossan?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Presumably they knew each other if your friend asked him to come and see you and offer counselling. Was he part of some official support group for VIP Catholics?’
‘VIP?’ Dorothy exclaimed.
‘Well, as you pointed out yourself, it’s unusual for a high-profile scientist to be a committed Christian or to follow any faith for that matter. You would be seen as an important ally — witness the Yale meeting where you and the bishop spoke in supportive style instead of knocking lumps out of each other.’
‘I suppose.’
‘At some stage soon, I am going to have to hand over what I’ve come up with to the American police,’ said Steven.
Dorothy pursed her lips but said, ‘Of course, it’s the right thing to do. I just feel for Paul and Carrie’s parents; coming to terms with a horrific accident must have been bad enough, but murder...’
On the spur of the moment Steven decided on a course of action he might have difficulty explaining later, but it felt right. He said, ‘I could delay for a while longer... or maybe even indefinitely.’
‘Why would you do that?’ Shock had reduced Dorothy’s voice to a whisper.
‘To give you time to contact your friend the bishop and ask him about Liam Crossan, you want to know who he is and what he is... and if he stalls, you want to know exactly why he discussed the substance of your confession with him.’
Dorothy seemed stunned, but after long consideration, she nodded and said quietly, ‘Very well.’
‘You did what?’ John Macmillan exclaimed when Steven told him what he’d done. ‘Have you taken leave of your senses? This is a matter for the American police not Sci-Med. It’s their job to trace this Crossan character and find out what’s been going on and bring him to justice if that’s warranted.’
Steven waited until Macmillan’s anger had subsided a little before saying, ‘I don’t think the American police will be able to do anything at all.’
‘I’m waiting,’ said Macmillan.
‘They’ll have absolutely nothing to go on in the way of solid evidence.’
‘They’ll see what you saw in the photographs when you point it out to them.’
‘And they may well agree there’s a strong possibility the pair were drugged, but they won’t be able to prove it. It’s too late. Again, Crossan was with them in the restaurant but there’s no evidence he drugged them. He left the restaurant with them but there’s no evidence he went back to the lab with them and there’s no evidence anyone started the fire deliberately.’
Macmillan looked as if he was facing up to an unpleasant truth as did Jean Roberts who had remained silent throughout.
‘We think we know what happened. We’re even pretty sure, but we’ll never be able to prove it and neither will anyone else,’ said Steven.
‘The police will find this Crossan character,’ said Macmillan.
‘And maybe even question him as a murder suspect, which he’ll deny, calling it outrageous and demanding to know what possible motive he could have had: he’s a priest, not a killer.’
‘And that will be the end of it,’ said Jean, ‘It does sound ridiculous when you look at it all that way.’
‘Whereas... it’s the motive that we are really interested in,’ said Steven. ‘We think Crossan killed the two Americans to prevent their findings being made public and he didn’t do that as some unbalanced lone wolf. He was known to Bishop Charles Stanley and sent to “counsel” Dorothy Lindstrom, but really to dissuade her from continuing her line of research. This morning, after talking to Dorothy, I thought her friendship with the bishop might make her more successful in uncovering Crossan’s background connections than the police might be... That’s why I took the decision I did.’
Jean gave Steven an encouraging glance while Macmillan contemplated a portion of humble pie. Eventually, he said, ‘I’m sorry I jumped down your throat, Steven, I should have known better after all these years.’
‘Nothing to be sorry for, John, you’ve always had the best interests of Sci-Med at heart.’
‘So have you.’
‘God, I think I’m going to cry,’ said Jean, ‘making light of the whole thing. Coffee anyone?’
Twenty-Three
Dorothy Lindstrom cleared her throat nervously as she waited for her transatlantic call to connect.
‘Bishop Stanley’s secretary.’
‘Hello, this is Professor Dorothy Lindstrom calling from London, England, I’d like to speak to Charles please.’
‘One moment please professor, I’ll see if he’s free.’
‘Dorothy? What a wonderful surprise,’ came the familiar booming voice, ‘I was just thinking about you the other day, how are you?’
Dorothy had to swallow again before replying, ‘I’m well, thank you Charles, I have a question for you.’ She had to hold the receiver away from her ear as booming laughter threatened her hearing before Stanley said, ‘I hope I can answer it if it merits a transatlantic call.’
‘It concerns Father Liam Crossan.’
No laughter this time. ‘What about him?’ came the flat question.
‘Who is he and what is he?’
‘I thought he might be able to help you come to terms with the loss of your young people, Dorothy. It was clear you were taking it very badly — and understandably so, it was tragic. Father Crossan is a skilled counsellor, trained in helping people through difficult times in their lives.’
‘He wanted to put a stop to my research, Charles,’ said Dorothy, biting her lip afterwards.
‘I’m sorry you see it that way, Dorothy, maybe you took it the wrong way, he probably thought it would do you good to get away from everything for a bit, re-charge your batteries, that sort of thing.’
‘No,’ said Dorothy decisively. ‘He wanted an end to my research, full stop. You say he is a skilled counsellor, attached to what, where? Where exactly does he fit into the Church, Charles?’