‘Let’s hope they do,’ he said.
Chapter Twelve
Approaching the Elephant and Castle roundabout, Jane asked Father Chris for directions to the archbishop’s house.
‘Take the second turning off the roundabout. Go straight up and you’ll see St George’s Cathedral. Archbishop’s House is just next to it. There’s a courtyard you can park in,’ he told her, sounding more relaxed than earlier.
‘Do you cycle all this way?’ Jane asked.
‘Sometimes, but if the weather’s bad, I get the train to Waterloo and walk down.’
Jane saw the cathedral tower come into view.
‘It’s a big cathedral. I’ve lived and worked in London all my life and never even knew it was here.’
‘It was built in 1848 then severely damaged in a German bombing raid during World War Two. An oddly named man called Romilly Craze designed and rebuilt it as a gothic revival cathedral, which opened in 1958. Pope John Paul II will be attending a service there when he visits London next month.’
‘You mentioned yesterday that Archbishop Malone was in Rome organising the Pope’s visit.’
‘Bishop Meade is standing in for him while he’s away. The courtyard is just over there on the right,’ he said, pointing.
After parking, Jane picked up the photographs and followed Father Chris to the main entrance in St George’s Road, with its ancient-looking arch-shaped dark oak doors.
Father Chris lifted the heavy brass knocker and banged it down on the door three times.
‘Getting a reply sometimes takes a while. I wish they’d get a doorbell or one of those fancy intercom things fitted,’ he said, and knocking again.
‘Just coming,’ a voice called out from the inside. The door was opened by a young priest wearing a white clerical collar and black cassock with a brown tasselled rope tied around his waist.
‘Good afternoon, Father Chris,’ he said. ‘Please come in.’
Entering the building, Jane was impressed by the vestibule with its arched ceiling, which opened onto a stone staircase. She was surprised to see a Thirties-style lift, with gold-coloured ornamental door grilles in the middle of the stairwell, looking rather rickety and out of place.
‘Bishop Meade is expecting you and Detective Tennison. Would you like a coffee, tea or a cold drink?’ the priest asked.
They both opted for coffee and the priest told them he would bring their drinks to the archbishop’s office, which Bishop Meade was using while he was away.
‘Are we using the lift?’ Jane asked warily.
‘We’ll use the stairs. The office is on the first floor.’
‘That’s a relief,’ she whispered to herself.
The Victorian-style room turned out to be almost as big as the Bromley CID office. The walls were covered with dark wood panelling, apart from the far end, which had floor-to-ceiling bookshelves. There were two stained-glass windows, one depicting Jesus on the cross and the other the Virgin Mary praying.
The bishop was sitting near the bookshelves at a carved oak pedestal desk. In front of the desk were two walnut armchairs with velvet-covered seats.
The bishop removed his moon-shaped glasses and stood up. He was a short, chubby-cheeked man in his late forties or early fifties, with thin black receding hair, partially covered by a rose-red skullcap. He wore an ankle-length black cassock trimmed with rose-red piping matching the buttons down the front. A large plain gold cross and chain hung from his neck down to a red cloth sash, tied around his midriff. A short, red-trimmed black cape hung from his shoulders.
The bishop raised his right hand towards Father Chris who bowed and kissed the large gold ring, set with an amethyst, that was on his third finger.
Father Chris looked at Jane. ‘May I introduce you to His Most Reverend Excellency Robert Meade, Bishop of the Diocese of Southwark. Your Excellency, this is Detective Sergeant Jane Tennison of the Metropolitan Police, Bromley.’
Bishop Meade held his right hand out to Jane who gave a little bow of her head as she shook it.
‘Welcome to Archbishop’s House, Detective Tennison. Please take a seat.’ He indicated the two chairs opposite his desk.
Jane was about to sit down when Father Chris nudged her and shook his head. They waited until the bishop was seated at his desk again and then sat down.
The young priest entered holding a tray with three coffees in bone china cups.
‘Is there anything else Your Excellency requires?’ the priest asked.
The bishop shook his head. ‘No, thank you.’ He turned to Jane.
‘Thank you for coming to see me, Detective Tennison. The Church will do everything it can to help regarding the unearthed coffin. Father Floridia told me you found the body of a nun inside the coffin.’
‘Yes, that’s correct, sir... I mean, Your Excellency.’
‘Under the circumstances, Bishop Meade will be fine,’ he smiled. ‘Father Floridia briefly told me the situation surrounding the discovery last night. I wonder, though, if you would be kind enough to go over it for me in more detail so I can take some notes and decide how I can best help you.’ He opened a large leather notebook and picked up a fountain pen from his desk.
‘May I take notes as well?’ Jane asked.
‘Of course. I was expecting you to.’
Jane recounted how the coffin had been found and how one of the builders had forced it open while on the site and stolen a cross from around the nun’s neck, which they had subsequently recovered.
Bishop Meade sighed and shook his head. ‘May God forgive him.’
Jane removed the photographs of the cross from the envelope. ‘As you can see, the cross is engraved. We are assuming the nun lived at the convent and I was hoping the initials and date might help us identify her.’
He looked closely at the photographs as Jane continued.
‘Father Floridia mentioned that you keep records of all the nuns who lived and worked in the diocese.’
‘That is correct. The archives are kept in this very building. They contain a wealth of material from the establishment of the diocese in 1850 to the present day, including information on our clergy, both living and deceased. It’s possible the initials MB may not be the initials relating to the nun’s birth name, however.’
‘Father Floridia did explain the complications concerning the initials,’ Jane said. ‘Would it be possible for me to visit the archives and look through the records?’
‘Of course. However, it might be quicker if I spoke with our archivist, Bree Parkin. She has extensive knowledge and is experienced in searching the records for all sorts of things.’
‘That would be very helpful,’ Jane replied.
The bishop held up the photograph of the engraved cross. ‘Could I keep this to show Mrs Parkin?’
‘Certainly.’ Jane recalled what Barnes had said about using the question of the land being consecrated as a cover, and explained about the sale of the Sisters of Mercy convent in the mid-sixties to a building developer.
‘I remember hearing about it at the time,’ the bishop said. ‘It’s always sad when a convent that does so much for orphaned and destitute children has to close.’
‘The developer is adamant his solicitors told him there was no consecrated ground when he purchased the land. I have told them to stop all digging work until we can ascertain if this is correct.’
The bishop nodded. ‘His solicitors would have liaised with the diocesan solicitors regarding the purchase of the convent and completed a “petition for faculty”, which is required before any development or reconstruction work can commence on consecrated land or buildings.’
‘So once that’s granted, the land and buildings are officially deconsecrated?’ Jane asked.