Barnes lit another Sobranie. ‘All in all, this has been a productive meeting. Is there anything else we need to discuss for now?’
Jane raised her hand. ‘Can they resume work on the building site now we know the land was deconsecrated?’
Barnes shook his head. ‘I would have said yes. Unfortunately, the News Shopper article alleging children may be buried on the land means I can’t.’
Jane knew it was pointless arguing with him. She dreaded telling Nick the bad news.
‘Will you be digging up the site and dredging the lake to look for other bodies?’ she asked.
‘I don’t know yet. We’ll have to see how the inquiry develops,’ Barnes replied.
Stanley, who hadn’t said much, looked at Jane. ‘Do you know how old the children at the orphanage were?’
‘No. Why do you ask?’
‘We have to consider that one of the children could have committed the murder, and the nuns and Meade covered it up.’
Barnes nodded. ‘I agree. The problem is, if all the children’s records were destroyed, we’ve no way of identifying them.’
‘Not necessarily, sir,’ Boon piped up. ‘A man at Bromley Council told me some Catholic orphanages and children’s homes are run by the Catholic Children’s Society, which is based in Westminster. They may keep records of the children who were sent to the convent and where they went when they left.’
‘Good thinking, Boon. Give them a call and see if they can help us.’ Barnes looked at each of them in turn. ‘Right, you all know what you have to do. Time is of the essence, so let’s get to work.’
Chapter Nineteen
Jane felt anxious walking to Nick’s office, not knowing if he’d read the article in the News Shopper.
‘Mr Durham’s on the phone just now,’ Judy, the office secretary, said when she saw her.
Jane ignored her and went straight to Nick’s office.
Nick put his palm on the speaker. ‘I’ll be with you in a minute.’
Jane sat on the sofa, nervously rubbing her hands, and wondering if their relationship was going to be over before it had begun.
Nick finished his call and put the phone down. ‘This is a pleasant surprise,’ he said as he got up.
Jane stood up. ‘There’s something I’ve got to tell you — and I don’t think you’re going to like it.’
‘What’s wrong?’ Nick asked.
Jane took a deep breath — then just blurted it out. ‘The nun in the coffin was murdered. We don’t know who did it. I should have told you, but I couldn’t. I’m really, really sorry and don’t blame you if you don’t want to see me anymore...’
Jane was talking so quickly, Nick had difficulty in understanding what she was saying.
‘Whoa, slow down, Jane,’ he said, putting his hands gently on her shoulders. ‘I already suspected there was more to this nun thing than you were letting on.’
She took another deep breath to calm herself. ‘Why didn’t you say so? I’ve been worried sick about how you’d react. I really thought you’d be mad with me.’
He gently squeezed her shoulders. ‘I’m not going to get mad simply because you’re doing your job.’
‘My DCS said we were to keep it to ourselves until we had identified the nun. A journalist found out and wrote the article. She also alleged there could be the bodies of other nuns and children buried in the grounds of the convent. As a result, my DCS said you can’t do any work on the site until further searches are done,’ Jane said, looking forlorn.
Nick smiled. ‘That’s not your fault. I understand your boss’s reaction. I can’t say I’m happy about it, but I’m not going to argue. Is he going to dig it all up?’
‘Not at the moment, but he might later... and dredge the lake as well. I’m sorry for any distress this may cause your father, especially with his heart condition. But obviously I couldn’t say anything to him either.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll speak with him. I’m sure he’ll understand, and we will both do anything we can to assist your investigation.’
Jane looked at her watch. ‘I’ve got to go to the diocesan archives and make some inquiries there.’
He kissed her on the cheek. ‘Don’t look so worried. Losing the site is only a temporary setback, I’m sure.’
Boon pressed the intercom at the News Shopper offices in Petts Wood, gave his details and was let in. The receptionist asked him to take a seat while she informed Miss Rogers of his arrival.
He saw the paper with Rebecca Rogers’ article on a table and read it while he waited. He thought it was a bit sensationalised, but it was obvious her father had given her a detailed account of the discovery of the coffin, post-mortem and cause of death.
‘Good morning, DC Boon, I’m Becky Rogers. I take it you’ve come about my article?’
He looked up to see a very attractive young brunette, with permed shoulder-length hair. She was dressed fashionably in a light blue jumpsuit, which had tapered legs and shoulder pads. The tight silver belt she wore showed off her slim, shapely figure.
Boon slowly stood up and shook her hand. ‘Yes. Thank you for seeing me.’
‘The office is quite small, and people are constantly nattering on the phone. We could pop over to Petts Wood Square for a coffee in the café and have a chat there.’
‘That would be good,’ Boon replied.
‘I’ll just nip upstairs and get my jacket, then.’
‘That’s a nasty limp you’ve got,’ Becky said as they sat down at a table. ‘What happened?’
‘Football injury... nothing serious,’ he said, taking a sip of his coffee. ‘I’m going to be straight with you, Becky. We know who the source was for your article. I understand why you wrote it, but your father should not have released confidential information to you. He’s put himself in a position where he could be disciplined and even dismissed from the force.’
She looked shocked. ‘Is it that serious?’
‘Yes. You were just doing your job, so you’re not in any trouble. But my DCS is not happy. He didn’t want to go to press until we’d identified the body.’
Becky looked concerned. ‘My dad didn’t actually tell me. I overheard him speaking to my mother. I assumed the police were about to release the information when I wrote the article.’
Boon suspected she was lying to protect her father, which was understandable. ‘I’m not here to have a go at you,’ he said. ‘What I need to know is, whether or not you are willing to assist the investigation.’
‘I’ll do whatever I can to help,’ she said.
‘Thanks. Did your article result in any phone calls from the public that might help us with the identification?’
Becky leaned towards him. ‘I’ve only had a couple of calls, both this morning, but it’s early days and I’m hoping for more. One call was just someone being nosy; the other was from a woman who said she’d been an orphan at the convent.’
‘What else did she say?’ Boon asked.
‘I can’t tell you that. I have to protect my sources,’ Becky said.
‘I understand, it’s the same for me as a police officer. Personally, I thought your article was very good,’ Boon said, trying to gain her confidence.
She looked pleased. ‘Thanks. I didn’t want to put the bit in about children being buried at the convent. It was my editor’s idea because he wanted to spice it up a bit.’
‘For what it’s worth, there’s nothing to suggest any children were buried there.’
‘Truthfully, I hope not,’ Becky replied solemnly.
‘I know the News Shopper is only a weekly paper, but you might be able to help us with a follow-up piece.’
‘Really. How?’ she asked, sounding eager.