‘Would you like a coffee or tea?’ he asked as he entered the room wearing a grey tracksuit and flip-flops.
‘I’m fine, thanks. I see from the photograph you were a long jumper.’
‘That was actually the last competition I jumped in.’
‘Where was it?’
‘Meadowbank Stadium, 1970. I represented Malta.’
The place and year rang a bell with Jane. ‘You were in the Edinburgh Commonwealth Games?’
‘Yes, but I didn’t win a medal. In fact, I was second to last.’
‘It’s still a fantastic achievement to have represented your country in such a prestigious event. Your family must have been very proud of you,’ Jane said.
‘My parents were there. The whole thing was an experience I’ll never forget.’
‘How old were you then?’
‘Twenty-one. I became a priest shortly after, so that was the end of my long-jumping career.’
‘You obviously still keep yourself fit,’ she said, recalling the site of his semi-naked body.
‘I try to run three or four times a week or go to the Walnuts Leisure Centre.’
‘Where’s that?’ she asked.
‘Just near Orpington police station. There’s a 33-metre swimming pool and gym.’
‘I’ve only recently moved to Chislehurst and haven’t been to Orpington yet. I’ll have to check it out sometime as I like to try and keep fit.’
He removed the fireguard and put some more logs on the fire. ‘Let me take your coat.’
Jane removed her coat and handed it to him.
‘Please, take a seat,’ he said, then hung her coat in the hallway. He sat down in the other armchair. ‘What was the outcome with the coffin?’
‘There was a female body inside dressed in nun’s clothing.’
‘That’s sad. Do you know her name?’
‘At the moment we have no idea who she is or when she died. Does the diocese keep records of all the nuns who lived and worked at the convent?’
‘I’m not certain, but I would think so. I had to give them my details and next of kin should anything happen to me. I suspect the convent would have kept their own records as well. They would have been passed on to the diocesan archives when the convent closed.’
‘Where are the archives kept?’
‘Archbishop’s House in Southwark. I’m sure the diocese will arrange for her to be reburied in a cemetery.’
‘I was wondering if you’d informed the bishop about the coffin?’
‘No. I was waiting to hear back from you first. I’ll call him now.’ He walked towards the phone on the writing desk.
‘This may sound odd,’ Jane said, ‘but I’d be grateful if you didn’t just now.’
He turned back to her with a puzzled look. ‘Why?’
Jane realised she’d dug a bit of a hole for herself. ‘I shouldn’t really be here discussing the investigation. My senior officers won’t be very pleased with me if they find out.’
He frowned. ‘And I’m afraid Bishop Meade will be angry with me if he finds out I didn’t tell him.’
‘I’m sure I’ll be able to tell you tomorrow. Look, I’d better go...’
‘This is putting me in an awkward position as well,’ he said. ‘Is there more to the nun’s death than you’re telling me?’
‘I’m sorry, but I can’t say at the moment,’ Jane said.
‘Trust works both ways, detective,’ he said with a meaningful look.
Jane sighed, but felt she had no other option than to trust him. ‘The post-mortem revealed she was murdered.’
‘Murdered? Bloody hell! How was she killed?’ he asked, clearly stunned. ‘I’m sorry, I apologise for swearing.’
‘Tragically, she must have suffered a slow, agonising death,’ Jane said before telling him about the examination of the coffin and the post-mortem findings.
Using his right hand, Father Chris traced the sign of the cross.
‘In nomine Patris et Filii, et Spiritus Sanсti. Amen.’ He held his hands together, eyes closed in silent prayer for a few seconds before looking up at Jane with a sorrowful expression. ‘It saddens me when I hear what human beings are capable of doing to each other.’
Jane was moved by his words. ‘If whoever killed her is still alive, I’m determined to find them.’
‘I hope you do.’
‘We also think a builder on the site forced open the coffin and stole a crucifix from the nun’s neck. The outline of a cross and chain was on her clothing.’
He shook his head in disgust. ‘That’s sickening. But you do realise a crucifix and a cross are not necessarily the same thing.’
‘Really?’
‘A crucifix is a cross with Jesus depicted or engraved on it. A cross is just a plain cross, though a nun’s cross often has the Sacred Heart of Jesus engraved on it.’
‘Is it the same as a normal heart shape?’
‘Pretty much. The symbol represents Jesus’ love for all humanity. It can be depicted in different ways. The most common is a heart with a circle of thorns, which represents the crown of thorns placed on Jesus’ head. There may also be a cross on top of the heart, which represents the crucifixion.’
Jane nodded. ‘That’s useful to know when we search the builder’s premises.’
‘I spoke with my housekeeper after you left this morning,’ Father Chris said. ‘I didn’t mention the unearthed coffin but asked her about the convent. She said it was an orphanage with about twenty or thirty children living there. Apparently, there was a fire and the convent closed, but she couldn’t remember exactly when.’
‘The building site manager mentioned there was a school which burned down before the convent closed. I’ve got a meeting tomorrow morning with my detective chief superintendent. I don’t know what course of action he will take — or if I’ll still be involved in the investigation. He may even contact the bishop himself. So I’d be grateful if you could keep this conversation between the two of us.’
‘Of course. The last thing I want to do is get you into trouble. I appreciate your honesty, and I’m still happy to help in any way I can.’
Jane gave him a relieved smile. ‘I could do with your help to identify the nun.’
He nodded. ‘Will you call me after you’ve spoken with your chief superintendent?’
‘Yes. I’ll only tell him about your offer of assistance. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it as well.’
‘Thank you for confiding in me. Is there anything you need from me just now?’
‘There’s a million questions I’d like to ask you about nuns and the Catholic Church, but they can wait until tomorrow.’ She looked at her watch. It was half past seven. ‘I’d best get off home. I’ve a lengthy report to type up.’
‘Have you had supper yet?’ he asked.
His question surprised her. ‘I was going to get a takeaway on the way home, actually.’
‘I’ve some soppa tal-armla simmering on the stove. It should be just about ready and there’s plenty for two.’
She was in two minds. Staying a little longer would give her the opportunity to discuss the case a bit more, but it would also mean a late night typing her report. She didn’t want to appear rude by declining his offer, although she didn’t have a clue what he was cooking.
‘I don’t want to put you to any bother,’ she said in the end.
‘It’s no bother at all. I’ve a small table in the kitchen where we can eat. Please, after you,’ he said, ushering her through the living-room door before him.
The small kitchen was antiquated, with Thirties-style green cupboards, a stone floor and an old gas stove, which reminded Jane of the one her grandmother had. A Raleigh drop-handle racing bike was resting upside down against the kitchen table, with one wheel on the floor next to it.