‘I understand... and thank you for your honesty. Obviously, Julie might be able to provide some useful information. Would you mind calling her just now and asking if she’d be willing to talk to us?’
‘I’ll try but she might be at work. She’s a nursing sister at Farnborough Hospital.’
While Annette went to the kitchen to make the call, Boon checked his notes to see if there was anything else he needed to ask.
Becky let out a sad sigh. ‘It’s made me realise how lucky I was to be raised by loving parents who always made me feel wanted and safe. Although we’ve had a few big rows over the years, I can’t ever recall a time when my parents raised a hand to me.’
‘Same here,’ Boon replied.
‘Could you prosecute the nuns for assault after so many years?’
‘It would need Annette and other victims to give evidence in court. I’ll certainly be telling my superiors what she told us. Are you going to write an article about what happened to her?’
‘I feel the public has a right to know. Those responsible should be named and shamed, but I won’t write it without Annette’s approval. And I will still try and help her find her brother.’
Boon smiled. ‘You’re a good person, Becky Rogers.’
She smiled back. ‘As are you, Simon Boon.’
Annette came back and told them Julie must be at work as she wasn’t answering. She turned to Boon. ‘I’ll call her later and give her your office number. I’m pretty sure she’ll do her best to help with the investigation.’
‘Thank you,’ Boon said.
‘How did you meet up with Julie again?’ Becky asked.
‘It was about two years ago while I was shopping at Allders department store in Bromley. I noticed this woman staring at me and shaking as if she’d seen a ghost. I asked if she was all right, but she didn’t answer. I was about to walk away when she asked me how I got the mark on my face.’ Annette pointed to a three-inch scar on her left cheek. ‘I told her a nun hit me with a bamboo cane and she looked close to tears. I’d never seen Sister Julie in casual clothes, so at first it didn’t register who she was. When she asked me if I was Annette Bell, it came to me in a flash. We hugged each other and cried our eyes out. In many ways, finding each other has been a blessing for both of us. Our long talks and lots of tears have helped us come to terms with what happened in our lives.’
Boon was about to ask Annette a question when he heard one of the babies crying.
Becky stood up. ‘We’d best be going and let you see to your children.’
‘There’s just a couple of other questions I’d like to ask before we go,’ Boon said.
‘If she carries on crying, she’ll wake the other one up. I’ll be back in a second.’ Annette dashed up the stairs and returned cradling one of the babies.
Becky’s eyes lit up. ‘Ah, she’s beautiful. What’s her name?’
‘Davina, after my brother. Her sister is called Julie.’
‘Can I hold her?’ Becky asked.
Annette handed Davina to her and then sat down opposite Boon.
‘Were there any non-religious people who worked at the convent?’ he asked.
‘Not that I recall. Most things in the convent were done by the nuns. You’d be surprised how skilled they were at fixing and making things. We had to do chores every day, keeping the place clean, helping with the laundry, tending the gardens and vegetable patches. Mucking out the pig pens was the worst punishment — you had to grab the shit with your bare hands and put it into a bucket.’
‘That’s gross,’ Becky said.
‘Were there any priests who worked there?’ Boon asked.
‘There was one who’d come in and read us Aesop’s Fables in class. Sometimes the bishop would visit... we’d be given clean clothes and inspected by Mother Superior before he arrived.’
‘Can you remember the priest’s or bishop’s names?’
‘We were only allowed to call the bishop “Your Excellency”, if he deigned to speak to us. We called the priest Father Bob. He was a nice man, everyone liked him. He used to give us all a boiled sweet in class, hold his finger to his mouth and say we must not tell Mother Superior, or he’d get in trouble.’
Boon closed his notebook. ‘Thank you, Mrs Gorman. I know it must be hard, talking about your life at the convent, but it’s been really helpful to our investigation.’
Boon couldn’t wait now to get back to the station. Father Bob, he wondered... could he be Bishop Meade?
Chapter Twenty
Driving Becky to Petts Wood, Boon asked if she’d mind keeping the conversation with Annette Gorman to herself, at least until DCS Barnes had held the press conference.
‘I don’t have a problem with that,’ she said, ‘as long as you buy me a drink.’
‘Are you blackmailing me?’ Boon grinned.
‘If it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have met Annette. So, I figure you owe me.’
‘All right then, where do you want to go?’
‘Do you know The Chequers in Southborough Lane?’
‘Yes. It’s a quiet, cosy little pub...’
‘That’s why I chose it,’ she smiled, with a twinkle in her eye.
‘The Chequers it is, then,’ Boon replied.
‘If Sister Julie is willing to talk to you, can I tag along?’ she asked.
‘I doubt it will be me who speaks to her. Julie could be the key to a lot of unanswered questions. As a significant witness my DS or DI will want to speak to her.’
‘Will you tell me what she says?’
He sighed. ‘I can’t do that, Becky. But if Julie wants to speak to you, that’s a different matter.’
‘Do you think this Father Bob is involved?’
His forehead creased. ‘No, but obviously he needs to be traced and interviewed.’
She laughed. ‘I can tell you’re fibbing by the way you reacted when Annette told you his name. And the way you just looked at me was another giveaway.’
Boon sighed. ‘I can’t tell you, Becky...’
‘Come on! You wouldn’t have found Annette or Julie if it hadn’t been for me. I won’t tell anyone else.’
‘You promise this is between us?’
‘Of course. It’s not in my interest to piss you off, is it?’
Boon told her about Bishop Meade and why he suspected he may have been involved in the nun’s murder.
Becky’s eyes widened. ‘Bloody hell. If your timeline is right and Meade was the priest who visited the convent, then he must have known the murdered nun.’
Boon nodded. ‘If he killed her, the big question is why — and who else was involved. We found out there’s a tunnel from the convent chapel that leads to near where her body was found.’
‘Have you checked it out?’ Becky asked.
‘Not yet.’
‘Do you think the nun’s murder had anything to do with the sale of the convent?’ Becky asked.
‘How do you know about the sale?’
‘I’m a journalist. I do my homework before writing an article,’ she said indignantly.
Boon suspected who her source was. ‘You mean your father told you about the coffin being found on the building site.’
‘Yes, but I made my own enquiries to find out about the history of the convent, the fire and then the sale to the building developer, Thomas Durham. If the nun found out there was something hooky going on between Meade and Durham, then maybe they thought she might tell the police.’
Boon laughed. ‘Now you are in fantasy land. Durham bought the land well after the nuns left. Even if he was remotely involved, why bury the coffin somewhere you know it would be dug up?’
‘That’s a good point... but I still think it’s a possibility worth exploring.’
‘Please, Becky, leave the detective work to us,’ he said. ‘Or you could find yourself in trouble.’