Boon glared at her. ‘Why are you defending him? He clearly killed Sister Melissa, and he’s probably killed Becky. I hope Meade rots in hell.’
‘It’s possible Melissa was going to the presbytery to see him the night she was killed, but never got there,’ Jane suggested.
‘You’ve changed your tune,’ Stanley remarked.
‘Meade could have gone to the convent to kill Sister Melissa, then packed her bag to make it look like she’d run away,’ Boon said.
‘It’s possible that’s what happened, but he’d have been taking a big risk of getting caught in the convent or waking Julie Dorton.’
Boon stood up. ‘People commit suicide for a reason. Meade couldn’t live with what he’d done. Stanley’s right, he took the coward’s way out.’
‘We’d better go see Barnes,’ Jane said. She had never seen Boon so worked up. She knew he wasn’t thinking clearly and trying to reason with him, or Stanley, would be pointless.
‘Did you find anything of interest at Becky’s flat?’ Barnes asked Stanley.
He handed Barnes a notebook. ‘This was beside her bed. Meade’s name is in it, along with some others. I think it’s her thoughts about the investigation.’
‘Strange she didn’t take it with her to work,’ Barnes remarked, flicking through it.
‘She’s got a small pocketbook for work,’ Boon said. ‘Becky told me she kept a notebook beside her bed. She’d often wake in the night and think of something important. She said if she didn’t write it down, she’d have forgotten about it by the morning.’
‘I know that feeling well,’ Barnes replied. He put the notebook down on his desk. ‘There’s tons of stuff in there, but it’s all in shorthand.’
‘I can read shorthand,’ Jane said.
Barnes handed her the notebook. ‘Transcribe and type it up for me, please.’ He turned to Stanley. ‘Did you speak to Becky’s flatmate?’
‘Yes, at her workplace. Her name’s Jayne Burman. She was at school with Becky and has been her flatmate for two years. She said Becky had become obsessed with the murder, thinking it could be her breakthrough to working for a mainstream paper.’
‘Did she mention Meade?’ Barnes asked.
‘Not by name. Burman said Becky was very perky yesterday morning. When Jayne asked why, Becky said she had a lead on someone connected to the Church to follow up on, which might prove interesting.’
‘That’s got to be Meade,’ Boon said.
Barnes nodded. ‘It certainly looks that way. Even more so now we know Meade left his office at around the same time. What did Becky’s editor have to say?’
‘He and two others confirmed Becky left just after two,’ Boon said. ‘She said she was following up on a lead and would be out for a couple of hours.’
‘I take it she has a car?’ Barnes asked.
‘Yes,’ Stanley replied. ‘A red 1972 Citroën 2CV, with a black canvas roll-back sunroof. I’ve already circulated the registration Met-wide and to the surrounding county forces. I also contacted Becky’s bank. She’s made no withdrawals or card purchases. They’ll notify us if she does. I’ve got a recent photograph of her from her flat.’
‘Contact our press office at the Yard,’ Barnes said. ‘Give them a full description; what she was wearing when last seen and details of her car. Get a patrol car to drop her photo off as well. I want it on the six o’clock news, TV and radio, and in all tomorrow’s papers. Can anyone think of anything else we can do to locate her?’
Jane made a suggestion. ‘This is a long shot. We could contact the Public Carriage Office to get the word out to the black cab community. Tell them we are looking for any cabbie who picked up a man outside Archbishop’s House yesterday afternoon who fits Meade’s description.’
‘That’s worth a try,’ Barnes said.
‘I’ve got her address book from the flat. We could ring round all her contacts. See if they know anything,’ Stanley said.
‘Share it out amongst the team to make it quicker,’ Barnes replied. ‘How’s PC Rogers?’ he asked Stanley.
‘Frantic with worry and wishing he’d never told his daughter about the post-mortem. As a cop, he knows the prospects of finding her alive are not looking good. He’s at home comforting his wife. I promised we’d contact him as soon as we have any news — good or bad.’
‘I’ll phone him in a minute and tell him about Meade’s suicide, as well as what we’ve just discussed.’
Barnes’s phone rang. He picked it up and had a brief conversation before ending the call.
‘That was Lloyd Johnson. Dr Pullen just attended the scene. She did a cursory examination of Meade’s body and found no marks indicating he had been in a struggle. She also thought the bruising and cincture marks on his neck were consistent with Meade hanging himself.
‘Now, this may sound odd coming from me, but we need to keep an open mind about Becky’s disappearance. Although there’s evidence that points to Meade being involved, she could have been abducted by a stranger. She may be alive and being held against her will. Time is of the essence. We need to think laterally and do everything we can to find her.’
Most of the team were gathered in the office for the meeting with Barnes, apart from the officers who were searching Meade’s apartment and office, who so far had found nothing of interest.
Jane phoned the Public Carriage Office who said they would do what they could to trace the cab driver who picked Meade up outside Archbishop’s House. She then phoned British Telecom and requested details of all outgoing calls from Archbishop’s House the previous day, and the names and addresses of who the calls were made to. She said it was urgent and the person she spoke to said they would fax the details through to her within the hour.
Barnes addressed the team. ‘I’m sure you’ve all heard about Bishop Meade’s suicide. As tragic as it is, depending on which way you look at it, he is no longer my main concern. We now need to concentrate on finding Becky Rogers. To that end, I’ve asked for an urgent press appeal to be made. I want you to treat every call or piece of information we receive as a possible lead. Follow it up until you are completely satisfied it is a dead end. If you have something positive, inform DI Stanley immediately.’ Barnes noticed DCS Salmon and the deputy commissioner entering the room.
Everyone stood to attention.
‘I thought the commissioner himself might have been here,’ Barnes remarked drily.
‘He’s busy trying to appease Archbishop Malone... thanks to you,’ the deputy commissioner scowled.
‘The floor is yours, Salmon,’ Barnes said with an ill-disguised sneer.
‘I’d like to speak to you in your office, DCS Barnes,’ the deputy commissioner said.
‘If you want to talk to me, sir, I’d rather you did it in front of my team.’
‘I won’t ask again,’ he said.
‘Then don’t, because I’m not budging.’
‘DCS Barnes, you are relieved of your command and suspended from duty until further notice,’ the deputy commissioner said.
Barnes laughed and shook his head. ‘May I ask on what grounds, sir?’
‘Disobeying the commissioner’s orders and misconduct in a public office.’
‘Did the child abuser — sorry, Archbishop Malone — influence your decision?’ Barnes asked.
The deputy commissioner was losing his patience. ‘No, he did not. But he has made a formal complaint about your conduct and your hounding of Bishop Meade.’
‘And so the cover-up begins. You’re all as bad as each other.’
‘That’s enough, Barnes. Leave these premises now or I will have you forcibly removed!’ the deputy commissioner snapped.
Barnes took his warrant card out of his jacket pocket and held it up as he addressed his colleagues. ‘Like you all, I took an oath of office the day I joined the police force. We swore to serve the Queen, without favour or affection, malice or ill-will. We learned our primary objective was the prevention of crime and the detection and punishment of offenders. As you progress in your service, never forget the oath you took and what you stand for. It has been a pleasure working with you all. You should be proud of what you’ve achieved in a short time on this investigation. Keep up the good work and I wish you a successful outcome. The last thing I ask of you is to find Becky Rogers... not for me, but for her family.’