‘You nearly finished, Boony?’ she asked in a loud voice.
He quickly sat upright. ‘Nearly, sarge. I’m on the last paragraph.’
Jane went to the store cupboard in the corner of the room and removed a large exhibits bag. She picked up the plans from Boon’s desk and put them in the bag.
‘Do you want me to look at the building documents over the weekend?’ Boon asked.
‘Don’t worry, I’ll do it,’ she said, picking up the folder and putting it in the exhibits bag.
‘I know what to look for,’ he said, sounding offended.
‘I’ve not got anything planned for the weekend so I’ve plenty of time to spare. No doubt you’ll be playing football for the Met.’
‘That’s true,’ he said. ‘We’ve got a game against Essex police tomorrow. Inter-police games are always bloodbaths.’
‘Don’t get yourself injured. I need you on my team, fit and healthy.’
‘I’ll be fine,’ he grinned. ‘Do you reckon Barnes will form a full murder squad?’
‘I think he’ll have to. So far, everything points to our victim being murdered between 1958 and 1965, when the convent was sold. That time span means whoever killed her could still be alive.’
‘I hope Barnes puts me on the squad.’
‘I’m sure he will. He’s already let you continue working on the investigation with me. Your knowledge of the case works in your favour. It’s also useful to anyone else who comes on the team. Have a good weekend and I hope you win the game. Be here at eight on Monday morning and we’ll go over everything before the meeting with Barnes. Then you can head off to the magistrates’ court for May’s first appearance.’
Driving home, Jane felt her stomach rumbling. She stopped at the fish and chip shop in Chislehurst High Street and ordered cod and chips, then nipped to the nearby off-licence. Looking in the refrigerated section, she noticed a bottle of Blue Nun Liebfraumilch. ‘Must be a sign from God,’ she said to herself as she picked it up, along with a bottle of white wine for her neighbour, Gerry.
After parking on her driveway, she popped round to Gerry’s to give him the wine.
‘Hello, Jane, has the light bulb blown again?’ he asked.
‘No, it’s working fine. I bought this as a thank you. I hope you like Chardonnay,’ she said, handing him the bottle.
‘It’s mine and Vi’s favourite. Thank you so much. Why don’t you come in and have a glass with us?’
‘I’ve just bought some fish and chips and I don’t want them to get cold, but I’d love to another time.’
He smiled. ‘I look forward to it. And don’t forget I’m here if you need me.’
‘Actually, as it happens, the cold water tap in my kitchen sink is dripping all the time...’
‘I’ll get my toolkit,’ he said instantly.
‘No. It’s OK, tomorrow will be fine. I’m not working, so morning or afternoon would be great.’
‘I’ll pop round after I’ve taken Spud for his morning walk. Goodnight.’
What a lovely man, she decided as she walked to her door.
Jane thought the fish and chips were pretty good and the Blue Nun wasn’t too bad, either, if a bit sweet for her liking.
She washed and changed into her pyjamas, before pouring herself another glass of wine, then fetched the exhibits bag containing the plan drawings and documents file from the hallway. She didn’t feel like reading through the documents, so randomly pulled a plan out of the bag, unrolled it, and laid it out on the living-room floor. It was a copy of the original plans for the redevelopment of the convent buildings, dated August 1964. Looking at the plan, Jane remembered she’d promised Nick Durham she’d call him after her meeting with the bishop. She looked at the wall clock. It was nearly nine and she wondered if he’d be out on the town on a Friday evening, unlike herself. Removing his business card from her coat pocket, she dialled the home number.
He picked up after two rings. ‘Nick Durham speaking.’
‘Mr Durham, it’s Detective Sergeant Tennison. Sorry it’s late, but I thought I should call and update you.’
‘Is it good news or bad news?’
‘A bit of both,’ she said. ‘My DI said it’s OK to knock down the burnt-out buildings but don’t do any digging there.’
‘Thanks, that’ll keep the lads on the site busy for now. What did the bishop say?’
‘He couldn’t give me a definitive answer regarding any consecrated ground on the land. But he did say the diocesan archives would keep a record. He hopes to have an answer for me by Tuesday at the latest.’
‘I spoke with my dad again after you left. He’s adamant his solicitor told him the land and buildings were deconsecrated before the sale of the convent. He was also told there were no grave sites on the land.’
‘If he’s right, the diocesan archives should confirm it and you can start work again.’
‘I hope it’s right, or my dad might have to move in with me,’ he laughed.
‘Your dad lives there?’
‘Yes, in the old chapel.’
It suddenly dawned on her why she’d thought Nick Durham looked so familiar. His father had to be the man with Bella, the Golden Retriever, who went into the old chapel and returned with an umbrella.
‘Hello? Sergeant Tennison? Are you still there?’ Nick asked.
‘Yes. Sorry, I got distracted,’ she replied, wondering why Nick’s father had never mentioned he was the original developer who had bought the convent and its land. ‘I’ve got to go, Mr Durham, I have some paperwork I need to finish tonight. I’ll ring you as soon as I get a definitive answer from the bishop.’
‘Well, thanks for calling... oh, before you go, I spoke with our electrician about your wiring. He said he could have a look at it next Saturday.’
‘That would be great, thank you.’ She tried to sound pleased, but her head was full of unanswered questions about Thomas Durham’s behaviour.
‘There is one other thing...’
‘I’ve really got to go, Mr Durham.’
‘Will you... have dinner with me tomorrow night?’ he asked.
Jane hesitated. She knew it wouldn’t really be proper.
‘Please say yes. If you don’t, I’ll feel totally rejected and might have to hang myself,’ he pleaded.
‘Go on then,’ she said. ‘I can’t resist your charm anymore. I’ll ring you in the morning for the details.’
‘I’ll book a table for two at the Fantail in Farnborough Village. I think you’ll like it,’ he said.
‘I’m sure I will. Speak to you tomorrow.’ She put the phone down, feeling slightly guilty.
Although she liked Nick Durham, she’d only accepted his dinner invitation to learn more about his father, who she strongly suspected was hiding something. She sat at the dining-room table, opened her notebook, and thought hard about the two occasions she had met Thomas Durham, then started to make some notes.
When Boon had said a coffin had been ‘dug up’, Thomas Durham had looked concerned, and yet never mentioned that he’d renovated the convent or his son’s involvement in the current development. It was also odd he’d not contacted his son immediately about the coffin or told him he already knew about it when Nick had called him on Thursday evening.
Jane remembered Thomas Durham looking angry when she saw him coming out of the site office in the morning. He’d clearly had an altercation with Lee Holland, who she now knew had lied to her when he’d said he didn’t know him. So what were Holland and Durham so worried about that they had to lie? Could Father Chris be right about someone outside of the Church being involved in the murder?
Chapter Fourteen