‘Put the call through to Stanley’s phone,’ he said. ‘He might not be aware of the article in the paper yet. If he does start kicking off about it, hand the phone to me and I’ll deal with him.’
The phone rang and Jane picked up. Barnes leaned in close so he could hear both sides of the conversation. Jane could smell the stale smoke on his breath.
‘Good morning, Bishop Meade. What can I do for you?’
‘Good morning, Detective Tennison. Unfortunately, I’ve some bad news. I spoke with Mrs Parkin, our archivist, who informed me our diocesan archives have no records pertaining to the nuns who lived and worked at the Sisters of Mercy convent,’ he said in a matter-of-fact way.
‘What, none at all? Are you sure?’ Jane asked.
‘It would seem they were all destroyed in the fire in the convent outbuildings where they were stored.’
‘Even the children’s records?’
‘Sadly, yes.’
‘What about any priests who lived or worked at the convent?’
‘Only Sisters of Mercy ever lived and worked there. On a positive note, I can tell you that the convent land and buildings were deconsecrated and a “Petition for Faculty” was granted. There were about twenty nuns’ graves there, all of which were officially moved to St Luke’s cemetery in Bromley before the convent was sold.’
‘With regard to the fire, do you know exactly when it occurred?’ she asked.
‘Mrs Parkin informed me it was the summer of 1962. The fire started in the bakery and destroyed all the convent’s provisions, then spread to the schoolhouse. With little food to eat, no school to teach in, and the main buildings in a state of disrepair, the convent closed and it was sold to a building developer. I should add that the convent’s records would have been transferred to the archives had it not been for the fire.’
‘I see. Well, thank you for your assistance, Bishop Meade,’ she said.
‘If there’s anything else you need, please feel free to call me. I won’t be in my office today, though, as I’m attending a religious conference in Cambridge this afternoon.’
Jane put the phone down.
‘He’s hiding something,’ Barnes said, his jaw set.
Stanley wasn’t so sure. ‘Hiding what? There was a fire, and Jane found a council planning document confirming everything was deconsecrated.’
‘I’m not doubting that,’ Barnes said. ‘What I find odd is he never gave his name when he went to the mortuary or told you he’d been there. Also, he never asked when the nun’s body would be released for burial.’
‘In fairness, he did ask me when I met him on Friday,’ Jane said. ‘I told him it was the coroner’s decision and he’d probably want us to identify her first.’
‘He’s just told you the records were destroyed, and he knows the land was deconsecrated... so why didn’t he ask you to speak with the coroner? Take it from me, there’s skeletons in his cupboard,’ Barnes said firmly.
Jane thought for a moment. ‘It’s possible his emotional distress at the mortuary wasn’t grief over the death of a nun. His reaction to seeing her body could be an outpouring of self-pity and regret for something he’s done or was involved in. If I’m right, then it also suggests Bishop Meade knows who she is and may be lying about the diocesan records being destroyed in the fire.’
‘If he’s lying, then so is the lady who looks after the archives, which on the face of it would seem unlikely,’ Stanley remarked.
‘Then we need to have a word with Mrs Parkin... without Meade knowing,’ Barnes said.
‘I can do that, sir,’ Jane said. Barnes nodded.
Boon returned, looking pleased with himself. ‘The electoral register for PC Rogers’ address only showed him and Mrs Rogers living there. But I phoned Jack the mortuary technician and asked him if Rogers had a daughter. He said yes and her name was Rebecca. She’s twenty-two and a junior reporter for the News Shopper.’
‘Looks like she’s trying to make a name for herself,’ Stanley said.
‘Good work, son,’ Barnes said. ‘I’d like you to pay Miss Rogers a visit. I want to know exactly what information she received. Also, tell her her father could be disciplined and possibly dismissed from the force for leaking confidential information to the press.’
‘Is it worth getting her to do an article about the cross and asking former nuns and orphans at the convent to contact us?’ Boon asked.
Barnes shook his head. ‘The News Shopper is just a weekly rag. We need the mainstream tabloids and TV involved. I’ve already spoken with our press office. They’ve organised a press conference for four o’clock this afternoon at Orpington where I’ll make a public appeal for assistance. I’ll need blown-up photos of the cross, the coffin and the victim in the coffin.’
‘The anthropologist who does facial reconstruction is making a two-dimensional drawing of the nun’s face. It might be worth using it in a press appeal,’ Jane chipped in.
‘I want to see it first,’ Barnes replied.
‘Are you forming a murder squad, sir?’ Boon asked hopefully.
‘Yes. It’ll be based at Orpington. There’s a conference room we can use. Stanley, I want you to set it up today, so take two more Bromley detectives with you to help. I’ll call around the division and ask them to release further staff. I want everyone at the press conference and a five thirty squad meeting after it.’ He looked at Jane. ‘In the meantime, you speak with Mrs Parkin and Boon with Miss Rogers.’
‘Are you going to arrest Bishop Meade?’ Boon asked.
Barnes shook his head. ‘There’s not enough evidence yet. Even if Meade admits he went to the mortuary, it doesn’t prove anything. Our priority is identifying the nun and finding a connection between her and Meade. Clearly it would take at least two people to move that coffin to where it was found. That said, our only suspect at present is Bishop Meade. But we need to find substantive evidence he has lied and obstructed the investigation before arresting him.’
‘I have an idea where the coffin might have come from,’ Jane said. ‘I was about to tell you before Bishop Meade called. Can I just nip and get a plan of the convent so I can show you?’
Barnes nodded. Jane returned quickly with the 1851 plan of the convent and laid it out on Stanley’s desk as the others gathered round.
‘I spoke with an architect who told me these markings are for a tunnel. As you can see, it runs from the convent chapel basement to the outbuildings.’
Barnes looked thoughtful. ‘It makes sense keeping a coffin in the chapel basement... and the tunnel would be useful cover for moving it unnoticed.’
‘Between the convent and the outbuildings are gardens, surrounded by eight-foot-high walls, which give further cover once you exit the tunnel. The coffin was found just here, which is about fifty metres away.’
‘At the time, no one would have thought houses or flats would be built on the land,’ Boon added.
‘If you’re right, Tennison, using the tunnel to move the coffin implies someone living at the convent was involved.’
‘I agree, sir, but there’s also the possibility it could have been a layperson who worked at the convent,’ she said.
‘You’re right,’ Barnes said, ‘though I doubt there’ll be any records of laypeople who worked at the convent in the fifties and sixties. That said, a press appeal might help identify and locate them.’
It was becoming obvious the task ahead of them was not going to be an easy one because of the years that had passed since the murder.
‘I think it might be worth us having a look at the tunnel and taking some photographs,’ Barnes said.
Boon looked at Jane. ‘We met the man who lives in the chapel—’
Jane was quick to interject. ‘I’ll ask him if I can have a look at the basement and take some photographs.’