Driving to St Mary’s Church, Jane felt miserable about her conversation with Stanley and anxious about her meeting with Father Chris. She was stuck in a quandary, wondering what she could do to get out of a messy situation. She knew she only had herself to blame, but hoped identifying the nun might placate Stanley and, more importantly, Barnes, if he found out she’d lied to him.
Jane knew, as a last resort, she could go to court and apply for a warrant to seize any relevant documentation from the diocesan archives, but that course of action risked creating animosity between the police and the Catholic Church, whose assistance was vital to the investigation. She sighed, knowing there was only one answer. She had to be honest with Father Chris and face the consequences, whatever they might be.
Walking up the stone path to the presbytery, Jane saw Father Chris looking out of the living-room window. He waved to her then opened the front door. He was wearing a black raincoat, black suit, and a shirt with a white clerical collar.
‘Hi, Jane, thanks for coming to pick me up. How are you today?’ he said, greeting her with a smile.
She couldn’t bring herself to smile back. ‘Before we go to the mortuary, I need to have a chat with you.’
‘Is something wrong?’
‘Yes, but it’s nothing you’ve done. Can we talk inside?’
He showed Jane through to the living room, where they both sat down.
‘I had my meeting with DCS Barnes this morning. He’s happy for you to assist me identifying the nun. But he also instructed me not to tell anyone connected with the Church, the building site, or the press that the nun was murdered, until we discover her identity.’
He looked concerned. ‘Does he know you told me she was murdered?’
Jane sighed. ‘Under the circumstances I thought it best not to tell him you know.’
Father Chris looked worried. ‘This puts me in an awkward position with Bishop Meade, because—’
Jane interrupted. ‘I would never ask or expect you to lie to him. If you don’t want to come with me to Bishop Meade’s office, I totally understand. He doesn’t know we’ve met or discussed the discovery of the coffin or the nun’s death, so I’m happy to keep it that way, if you are. Then there will be no repercussions for you.’
He gave her a doubtful look. ‘That’s not really possible now.’
‘Why not?’
Father Chris shook his head. ‘I spoke with Bishop Meade last night, after you left.’
Jane was surprised. ‘I thought you said you wouldn’t call him.’
Father Chris looked upset. ‘Don’t worry, he doesn’t know the nun was murdered.’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. This whole situation is my fault.’
‘It’s all right. I understand your concern. After you left last night, I realised I’d have to make an appointment to see the bishop as he’s a busy man. I didn’t want you to have a wasted journey, so I called him. Naturally, he asked what it was about, but I only told him I’d been informed a coffin had been uncovered at the old convent with the body of a nun inside. If Bishop Meade finds out I knew she was murdered before I called him, he’s not going to be a happy man.’
‘Looks like we’ve both dug a bit of a hole for ourselves,’ Jane sighed.
He let out a nervous laugh. ‘We reap what we sow. Bishop Meade also knows you are trying to ascertain the nun’s identity.’
‘Did he say if they had any historical records of the nuns who lived at the convent?’
‘No, and I didn’t ask. He said he’d do what he could to help. I told him we’d be there around half past two.’
‘We best be on our way, then,’ Jane said. ‘Are we agreed we don’t tell him she was murdered — at least for now?’
‘Regrettably, yes. I’ll let you do the talking when we get there,’ he said solemnly.
As they got into Jane’s car, she looked at her watch and told Father Chris they had time to go to the mortuary first if he wanted to say a prayer for the nun before the meeting with Bishop Meade. Jane reached over to the back seat, picked up a folder and handed it to Father Chris.
‘We recovered the cross at the builder’s flat this morning. He admitted forcing the coffin open and stealing it. There are some photographs of the cross and coffin in there for you to look at.’
Jane started the car and pulled away from the kerb. She noticed he was looking at a photo of the cross.
‘It’s exactly as you described it would be — the Sacred Heart, with a small cross and circle of thorns engraved on it. I’m assuming MB are the initials of the nun.’
‘Possibly, but they could be for her given name.’
‘I forgot you told me that,’ Jane said.
‘A common given first name for a nun is Mary. The B could also refer to a given name or even a real surname.’
‘What about the engraved date? Could it be when she became a nun?’
‘Possibly. It could also be when she took her final vows.’
‘How old do you have to be to become a nun?’ Jane asked, realising it might help narrow down the victim’s age.
‘These days, at least eighteen. After a woman decides she wants to be a nun, she moves into a community, like a convent, as a novitiate. They live and work with other nuns, to help them decide if they want to live a religious life.’
‘Like a sort of test drive to see if you like it,’ Jane smiled.
He laughed. ‘That’s one way of putting it.’
‘Would the joining age have been younger back in the fifties and sixties?’
‘Possibly, yes. I have met a nun who became a novitiate when she was fifteen, but I think that’s quite rare over here.’
‘How long does it take to become a fully-fledged nun?’ Jane asked.
‘After two years as a novice, the nun takes her first vows, then after another three years, they surrender their life to their religious order and take vows that compel them to remain unmarried, devote their work to charity, and give up most of their material goods. Then, as you put it, the novitiate is fully-fledged.’
Arriving at the mortuary, Jane asked Father Chris to wait in the coroner’s officer’s room while she went to speak with the mortuary technician to check if the nun’s body was ready for viewing. As she entered the mortuary examination room, she saw Sam Pullen standing by the X-ray viewer with a grey-haired man in his fifties casually dressed in a white T-shirt, blue jeans, denim jacket, and white trainers.
Jack was placing a clean shroud on the nun’s body, which was on a mortuary trolley. ‘I’ll take the nun to the chapel of rest. Give me five minutes to set things up, then the priest can do his bit,’ Jack said cheerfully pushing the trolley towards the doors.
‘Hi, Jane.’ Sam smiled. ‘This is Richard Eaves. Richard, this is Detective Sergeant Jane Tennison.’
‘Thank you for letting me be involved in your investigation,’ Eaves said. ‘I’m looking forward to doing the facial reconstruction. As it’s the weekend tomorrow, I’ll pick the head up on Monday and get straight to work on it.’
‘How long do you think it will take?’ Jane asked.
‘At least two or three weeks for a clay reconstruction.’
‘I look forward to seeing it,’ Jane said, but Eaves could see she looked disappointed.
‘If you need something quicker, I could do a two-dimensional facial reconstruction,’ he suggested.
‘What does that involve?’ Jane asked.
‘Taking a front and side profile photograph of the skull, which I place side by side on a drawing table and cover with transparent paper. Using the shape of the bone and the tissue markers as a map, I then sketch a face back onto the skull. It will only take me a couple of days. I’ll also do the clay model as part of my research.’