After a few minutes she came downstairs holding a large, framed black-and-white photograph. She handed it to Jane.
Boon leaned forward to look at the photograph, which had clearly been taken outside the schoolhouse. Three older sisters were sitting on a garden bench, with the rest of the sisters, a priest, and some children in a semi-circle behind them. The youngsters sat on the ground, cross-legged. Everyone was smiling as if they didn’t have a care in the world. Jane visualised Eaves’ artist’s impression but didn’t see anyone she could positively identify as Sister Missy. The fact that they were all dressed the same and wearing white wimples made it even more difficult.
Julie looked glum. ‘They say every picture tells a story... the truth is, this one lies. Although it brings back some happy memories, we all smiled because Mother Superior said anyone who didn’t would be for the high jump. That’s Missy,’ Julie said, pointing, ‘and that’s me on her left. Annette’s sat on the ground in front of Mother Superior who is in the centre on the bench, with Sister Margaret on her right. That’s Father Bob in the back row.’
‘Would you mind writing down the names of everyone in the photograph you can remember?’ Jane asked.
‘Of course.’ Julie went and got a notepad and set to work.
‘Do you have any more photos like this?’ Boon asked.
Julie shook her head. ‘We had a convent group photograph taken every summer. Mother Superior hung them in the “off limits” playroom. When we knew we had to leave the convent, I got the job of packing up the stuff that was in there. I took this as a memento of me and Missy and the year we took our final vows.’
Jane realised Meade looked a lot different now and doubted she’d have recognised him without Julie pointing him out. She saw the photograph had ‘Sisters of Mercy Convent 1958’ printed on the bottom and turned it over. She found what she was looking for. On the back was a sticky label with ‘Scott Davies Photography’ and an address in Market Square, Bromley.
‘Would you mind if I took this photograph with me?’ Jane asked.
The incident room was a hive of organised activity and urgent voices. Every phone was manned by detectives, trying not to talk over each other as they spoke with members of the public who had seen the six o’clock news. The caller’s details and information were recorded on the appropriate forms, which on completion were taken to Barnes’s office, where he and Stanley assessed and prioritised them for any immediate action.
‘You got anything that mentions Mead or Malone yet?’ Barnes asked Stanley.
‘Nope, nothing. I’ve got a few with possible names for nuns at the convent, but they’re all Sister this and Sister that — not a surname on any of them.
‘Same here. I thought we might at least get a call from a nun who’d lived there,’ Barnes sighed.
‘If they lead a sheltered life, they might not watch TV or read newspapers,’ Stanley remarked.
‘That’s true. At least we are getting people calling in, so fingers crossed.’
Stanley held up a few information forms. ‘There’ve been a few calls from people who said they were kids at the orphanage. They all mention the strict regime handed out by the Mother Superior and some of the nuns.’
‘I’ve got a few here too, but no mention of Meade being an abuser. We need to prioritise the calls we’ve received, then I’ll get some of the team to interview the former pupils.’ There was a knock on the door. ‘I’ve already told you there’s no need to knock,’ Barnes shouted, thinking it was a detective with more information forms.
Jane walked in, with Boon behind her carrying the convent photograph.
‘You two took your time.’
‘Less haste, more speed, sir,’ Jane beamed.
‘I’m not in the mood for flippancy, Tennison.’
‘We think we’ve identified our victim,’ Jane said.
‘And we’ve got proof Meade knew her,’ Boon added, holding up the photograph.
Barnes’s face lit up.
‘Who is she?’ an energised Barnes asked.
‘Her name’s Melissa Bailey, also known as Sister Missy, born fifth of August 1940. Her parents live in Kingston, Ontario. She became a novice at the Sisters of Mercy convent in February 1953 and took her final vows on the twentieth of February 1958.’
‘The date on the cross. That’s bloody brilliant. Well done, you two.’ Barnes beamed.
Boon put the photo down on Barnes’s desk and pointed out Melissa and Julie.
‘The priest in the back row is—’
‘The illustrious Father Bob,’ Barnes said, picking up the photograph to have a closer look.
‘Julie Dorton confirmed it’s Robert Meade,’ Boon added.
‘Meade was clearly well-liked, so I didn’t press her about him abusing the children. I figured it would be better coming from an actual victim if we trace one.’
Barnes nodded. ‘Tell me everything that Dorton said, chapter and verse.’
Jane recounted the interview from memory and Boon added other salient details from his notebook.
‘Well done, the pair of you. Dorton’s information is another step in the right direction. It yet again proves Meade is lying.’
‘I can’t say I was sorry to hear Mother Superior was dead after the way she treated those poor children,’ Boon remarked.
‘Julie’s account suggests Missy didn’t even get out of the front door of the convent before she was murdered,’ Jane said.
‘Dorton might have lied about her relationship with Missy because she was involved in the murder?’ Stanley suggested.
Jane shook her head. ‘I’ve no reason to doubt her whatsoever. I certainly don’t think Julie was putting on the tears for effect. She also got a severe beating from Sister Margaret.’
‘OK, fair enough, but it’s a question that needed to be raised,’ Stanley said defensively.
‘If Missy was murdered inside the convent when she was attempting to leave, it was probably in the early hours of the morning, which rules Meade out as he lived a mile—’
Barnes interrupted. ‘Come on, Jane, it’s bloody obvious Meade is lying through his teeth and involved in some way. Who’s to say Sister Missy didn’t go there to confront him if he was abusing the children?’
‘I’m not doubting he’s involved. I’m just saying it makes him less likely to be the killer if he was tucked up in bed. It’s also a bloody long way to drag a coffin from the presbytery to the convent,’ Jane replied.
‘Not if there’s two people carrying it. I’d bet a pound to a penny Malone is involved in some way,’ Barnes insisted.
Jane told Barnes about Julie’s meeting with the then Bishop Malone: how he wanted to protect the good name of the convent and grant Sister Missy a dispensation so it appeared she’d left the sisterhood of her own free will.
He nodded. ‘That just confirms my suspicions about Malone.’
Boon raised his hand. ‘Can I say something?’
‘I know Julie’s account suggests Mother Superior and Sister Margaret thought Sister Missy ran away, but it’s clear they both had violent tempers.’
‘It’s a valid point, son, but Missy’s post-mortem revealed her death was extremely violent and has all the hallmarks of a male assailant,’ Barnes said.
Jane thought there was more merit to Boon’s idea. ‘They could have been involved in a cover-up... or forced into one by Meade or Malone.’
‘I agree, that’s possible,’ Barnes conceded.
‘Well, Mother Superior can’t help us as she’s dead,’ Stanley remarked.
Barnes rubbed his chin. ‘We still need to confirm it, and trace Sister Margaret.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Boon, go and phone the hospice and see if you can get hold of Sister Suzanne. Tell her you spoke with Julie Dorton. Confirm Mother Superior’s death and see if she knows where Sister Margaret is. Also, ask if someone from the team can interview her tomorrow.’