‘I can do that for you,’ Davies said.
‘We might need it for evidential purposes in court, so I have to get it done in-house,’ Jane told him.
‘I understand.’ He removed the slide and put it in an envelope.
‘Thanks for your help, Mr Scott,’ she said.
As they walked to the car, Boon could tell something in the last photograph had piqued Jane’s interest.
‘Spill the beans, sarge. What got you excited about that 1962 photo?’
Jane told him what she’d noticed. ‘I want to get their hands enlarged to be sure.’
‘Bloody hell, you’ve got eyes like a hawk!’ he said.
‘Every picture tells a story, Boony,’ Jane smiled.
Chapter Twenty-four
Barnes knocked on the door of Archbishop’s House and waited impatiently for someone to answer. Eventually, the young priest, Bishop Meade’s assistant, opened the door.
‘Can I help you?’ he asked with a pleasant smile.
Barnes held his warrant card up. ‘I’m Detective Chief Superintendent Barnes. This is Detective Inspector Stanley. We would like to speak with Bishop Meade.’
The priest’s smile turned to a frown. ‘I’m sorry, but he’s not available right now.’
‘Then we’ll wait outside his office until he is,’ Barnes replied.
‘I’m sorry, but you can’t come in,’ the priest said, starting to close the door.
Barnes kept it open with his hand. ‘Please, don’t make me have to arrest you for obstructing police. Be sensible and show us to Meade’s office.’
‘This is most improper,’ the priest replied, shaking his head.
They walked in and the priest hurried up the stairs. Barnes and Stanley followed close behind.
The priest knocked once on the door of the archbishop’s office and entered quickly. Meade was sitting behind his desk doing some paperwork.
‘I’m really sorry, Your Excellency. I told these police officers you weren’t available, but they forced their way in...’
‘It’s all right,’ Meade said calmly.
Barnes and Stanley showed him their warrant cards and introduced themselves.
‘Please sit down. Would you like a coffee or tea?’ Meade asked.
Barnes and Stanley declined his offer and Meade said the priest could go.
‘How can I help you?’ Meade asked.
‘I think you know why we’re here,’ Barnes said.
‘I assume it’s about the nun’s death.’
‘Murder, to be more exact,’ Barnes said.
‘I’ve read the article in the News Shopper and seen your appeal for information on television. I find it rather deceitful that Detective Sergeant Tennison didn’t tell me all the facts when she came here last week. It would seem she even lied to Father Floridia.’
‘She was acting under my instructions,’ Barnes said. ‘I told her not to reveal how the victim died until we had identified her... which I’m pleased to say we have.’ Barnes noticed Meade’s eyes widen slightly.
‘May I ask who she was?’ he said.
‘Sister Melissa Bailey. But I think you already knew that,’ Barnes said.
Meade shook his head. ‘I can assure you I am not familiar with the name.’
‘That’s surprising, especially as you were the priest at St Mary’s and regularly visited the convent while Sister Melissa was a nun there.’
‘I went to the convent once or twice a month to read stories to the children. My interaction was mainly with the Mother Superior. She was quite strict and made it clear I was not to fraternise with the sisters, apart from Sister Margaret who was her deputy. My only communication with the others was a pleasant nod, hello or good morning.’
‘Why didn’t you tell DS Tennison any of this?’ Stanley asked.
‘She never asked, and I didn’t think it relevant. Her failure to inform me it was a murder investigation made me believe there was nothing untoward. As far as I was concerned, the body could have been there since the 1850s. I made inquiries with our archivist, Mrs Parkin, then promptly informed DS Tennison of the results.’
‘I know, I was there when you called.’ Barnes looked in his notebook. ‘DS Tennison asked you if any priests had worked at the convent. You replied, “Only sisters ever lived and worked there,” so by your own admission that statement is clearly a lie.’
Meade sighed. ‘I didn’t work there in the true sense of the word. As I just said I merely visited the convent now and again.’
Barnes looked at his notes. ‘You also said Mrs Parkin told you the fire started in the bakery then destroyed all the convent records and the schoolhouse.’
‘Yes, that’s correct.’
Barnes closed his notebook and tucked it back in his jacket pocket. ‘When Mrs Parkin was asked about the fire by DS Tennison, she referred to an archive document which stated it occurred in August 1962, damaging the outbuildings and school beyond economical repair.’
‘DS Tennison used subterfuge to gain entry to the archives. She lied to Mrs Parkin as to why she was there.’
‘Again, she was acting under my instructions. My question is, how did you know where the fire started and that it destroyed all the convent documents?’
‘Regrettably, I appear to have inadvertently caused some confusion. It was in fact the Mother Superior who told me the fire started in the bakery. When Mrs Parkin said there were no records relating to the convent in the archives, I assumed the fire must have destroyed them all.’
Barnes gave him a hard look, realising his answer was plausible.
‘When did the Mother Superior tell you about the fire?’ Stanley asked.
‘I can’t remember exactly when. I went to the convent to offer my assistance as soon as I heard about it.’
‘I take it you know Mother Superior Adele Delaney is dead?’ Barnes asked, knowing he couldn’t refute Meade’s answers if the information had supposedly come from her.
Meade nodded. ‘I heard she died from cancer a few years ago.’
‘Did she or Sister Margaret say anything to you about a Sister Melissa Bailey leaving the convent?’ Barnes asked.
‘No. They’d have no reason to either. If a sister chose to leave, it would be a matter for them and the bishop.’
‘Which at that time would have been Andrew Malone, I believe?’
‘That’s correct. He’s now the archbishop and currently on his way back from Rome. He will no doubt want to meet you personally, DCS Barnes. He’s as eager to solve this horrendous crime as you are.’
‘I’m looking forward to meeting him again,’ Barnes smiled.
Meade looked surprised. ‘He didn’t mention you knew each other.’
‘I’m not surprised. When he was a priest in North London, I investigated a serious assault on a twelve-year-old boy who had committed suicide. My inquiries revealed Malone repeatedly beat children black and blue. He believed it was God’s will that those who were unruly be severely chastised. I was never in any doubt his actions led directly to Stephen Phillips’ suicide.’
Meade looked aghast. ‘I’ve known Archbishop Malone for many years. He would never condone violence in any way, shape or form. If your allegations were true, the Church would have investigated it and dealt with him appropriately, I’m sure.’
‘They weren’t interested in why Stephen killed himself. Their investigation was a sham to protect Malone and the reputation of the Church. Everything was swept under the carpet.’
‘I find that hard to believe, officer,’ Meade replied.
Barnes shrugged. ‘Unlike some, I have no reason to lie. And let me assure you, I will not allow the same thing to happen again. I will find out who killed Sister Melissa and ensure they stand trial — as well as anyone attempting to pervert the course of justice in a cover-up.’ He glared at Meade before continuing. ‘It’s also come to our notice that the Mother Superior and Sister Margaret were violent towards children at the convent. Were you aware of that?’