She nodded. ‘It looks like I won’t get a result on the nun’s identity until Monday or Tuesday. There’s not a lot more I can do until then, so should I take the weekend off as rostered?’
‘If you want. Did you ask the bishop if a priest had worked at the convent?’
‘No. It might have made him suspicious. The archives will have a record.’
‘Might be worth asking Father Floridia.’
Jane hesitated. ‘There’s a slight problem there...’
‘Jesus Christ, don’t tell me you’ve managed to piss off a priest as well!’
She frowned. ‘He’s not pissed off with me. He just doesn’t want to assist me... for now.’
‘Spit it out, Jane. What did you do to upset him?’
She told Stanley about Father Floridia’s reaction when she suggested a priest or nun might have been involved in the murder.
‘Sounds like Barnes is right about the clergy being in denial,’ he remarked.
‘I don’t think he’s in denial,’ she said. ‘I just think as a priest himself, he finds it hard to accept.’
‘That’s no reason to blank you. Do you think there’s more to it?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘He could be stonewalling you because he’s hiding something?’
‘I don’t think so. He suggested a layperson, who worked at the convent, might have been responsible, but if that was the case, you’d expect the Mother Superior or one the other nuns to have reported her missing. Unless they thought our victim had just upped and left of her own accord.’
‘That’s possible, but unlikely. How’s it going with Missing Persons?’
‘Nothing positive yet. Maybe I should check the station archives as well.’
‘You’d be looking for a needle in a haystack. Old misper and crime reports are just dumped down there in no particular order.’
‘I could put out an all-stations memo,’ Jane suggested, ‘to see if there are any serving officers who remember dealing with a missing nun from St Mary’s Convent back in the sixties.’
‘OK. Wait and see if the diocesan archive search gives you a name, then do it.’
‘Whatever the outcome, I think Father Floridia’s assistance might still be useful. The convent is a stone’s throw from his church. Some of his parishioners have probably lived in the area for years and might have known some of the nuns. We might need to speak to them at some point, so Father Floridia would be a good means of introduction.’
Stanley snorted. ‘He’s already turned his nose up once... don’t be surprised if he does it again.’
Jane wasn’t going to be put off. ‘I’ll let him calm down over the weekend and contact him on Monday or Tuesday.’
‘Fine. Do your report then head off home and get some rest over the weekend. I suspect you’ll be pretty busy next week. Well done today. Keep up the good work.’
Jane left Stanley’s office, then phoned the forensic laboratory and got put through to DS Johnson.
‘Hi, Jane, what can I do for you?’ Lloyd asked.
She told him about the nun’s cross, the relevance of the date and initials on it and her conversation with Bishop Meade.
‘How’s the work on the fibres you recovered going?’ Jane asked.
‘I don’t think the fibre expert has had a chance to start on them yet. Give me a second and I’ll go and ask her.’
‘It’s OK, there’s no rush. Could you ask her to check the fibres from the nun against the rope she was wearing around her waist?’
‘You think she was strangled with her own rope.’
‘No, but I saw a priest today at Archbishop’s House who was wearing one that looked exactly the same.’
‘Bloody hell — you think a bloody priest did it?’
‘Don’t you start.’
‘Start what?’
‘It’s a long story,’ she sighed. ‘I’ve got the weekend off. Do you fancy having that drink and a catch-up on Saturday evening?’
‘I’d love to, Jane, but I’ve already made arrangements for Saturday night.’
‘Oh, right. Maybe some other time then?’ she said, unable to keep the disappointment out of her voice.
‘Definitely. Your choice where we go. I’m paying and no arguments. I’ll speak with the fibre expert right away, then get back to you with a result — probably Monday as the lab shuts at the weekend.’
Jane thanked him, then called Sam Pullen.
‘Hi, Sam, it’s Jane. I’m not working Sunday, so are you still up for a lunchtime meet?’
‘Of course. Do you still want to meet at London Bridge?’
‘I don’t mind... whatever’s easiest for you.’
‘Where do you live?’
‘Chislehurst.’
‘Bloody hell, we’re nearly neighbours. I live in Mottingham. Tell you what, let’s meet at The Bull’s Head.’
‘Where’s that?’
Sam laughed. ‘On your doorstep. Do you get out much?’
‘I only moved here a few weeks ago. I don’t know the area at all.’
‘Give me your address and I’ll pick you up at midday.’
Jane put the phone down and had started typing her report when DC Boon walked in, holding five large maps and a bulging folder.
‘Looks like you’ve been a busy boy at the Civic Centre,’ Jane remarked.
‘I felt a right prat walking up the road carrying all this stuff. I could hardly see where I was going, then nearly got run over by an old boy on a mobility scooter.’
Boon dropped the maps and folder on his desk.
‘So what have you got for me?’ Jane asked.
‘Everything you asked for... except the stuff on the kids,’ he said, pulling his chair over to Jane’s desk. Taking his notebook from his jacket pocket, he opened it and sat down. ‘The council don’t keep records of children who lived at the convent orphanage. However, they said many Catholic children’s homes are organised by the Catholic Children’s Society, who should hold records of the homes they operated. The local one is based in Westminster. If we don’t have any luck with them, they suggested checking with the diocesan archives in Southwark. Talking of which, how did it go with the bishop?’
‘Pretty well. Fingers crossed we should have a name by Monday or Tuesday. I see you got some plans.’
‘Yes, they printed them on a big copier they had. There are drawings of the old convent, the renovations from the sixties, and the plans for the current development. The folder’s full of paperwork relating to the development applications and approvals.’
‘Is any of the ground consecrated?’ she asked.
‘They didn’t know the answer to that question but did say if it were, a priest or bishop would have to deconsecrate it before any building work could start. Again, they said to check the diocesan archives. I got the impression they couldn’t be bothered to look through all the documents, but they said the answer should be in there somewhere.’
‘Judging by the size of the file, there’s a lot to look through,’ Jane said.
‘I can start now if you like,’ Boon suggested, getting up from his chair.
‘It’s OK. You’ve been on duty since six so why don’t you head off home?’
‘I’m on a bit of a high, to be honest,’ he said. ‘I don’t feel tired. Shall I start on the plans or the paperwork?’
‘Whatever suits you,’ Jane said, with a smile.
‘Documents it is then... or should I do a report on the Barry May arrest and my visit to the planning office first?’
‘Do the report. DCS Barnes will no doubt want to read it on Monday. I’ll take the plans home with me and have a look at them over the weekend,’ Jane told him.
By seven the office was empty apart from Jane and Boon. She’d finished her report and looked up to see how he was doing. She tried not to laugh, watching his head fall forward and jolt up again as he struggled to concentrate and stay awake whilst typing his report with two fingers.