Murder at Maddleskirk Abbey (13 page)

‘Nothing positive but several clues,’ I had to admit. ‘The indications are that he was going out for a day watching birds. On top of that, we are certain he used the bike. Why leave it so close to the woods if he was heading somewhere else? We think he also took a torch. That’s significant, I feel. It all makes sense – the storms mean he could be trapped somewhere below ground.’

‘Dogs will make a thorough search,’ suggested Brother George. ‘When I was farming you could rely on Jack Russells to flush rabbits out of their burrows….’

‘The police dogs can reach places we can never hope to reach and their sense of smell will quickly find a human, dead or alive,’ I assured them.

‘You’re not suggesting he’s dead, are you, Nick?’ asked the abbot, his voice registering his alarm.

‘It’s something we must be prepared for. There was a new landslide yesterday, I noticed the freshly uncovered earth on the hillside this morning….’

‘That’s terrible!’ The abbot sounded and looked extremely worried. ‘We must pray for him to be found. So will police dogs carry out the search without the press being notified?’ he asked. ‘He has been missing for more than twenty-four hours now.’

‘Yes, we can ask the handlers not to publicize their work. They can always call it an exercise.’

Prior Tuck took command. ‘Gentlemen,’ he said, ‘it’s time for action. I have allocated each of you a specific search area with
Father Will, Father Mutch and Brother George being advisers. Nick, if you can ensure that the police dog and its handler arrive in time to help, they could meet us near the old barns.’

‘I’ll make sure they do.’

‘Right, we’ll start without them. Father Mutch, we will need torches and equipment. Can you get some from your stores?’

‘I’ll see to it. I’ll meet you all there.’

P
RIOR
T
UCK WAS
firmly in command and before leaving the Postgate room he showed us a map of Ashwell Priory. He had found it in the library and it was large enough to help our search. It showed the buried ruins, the former holy well and the extent of the surrounding woodland plus the old barns.

Explaining that he knew something of large-scale searches due to his police experience in the wilds of Northumberland, he indicated that his men would begin their overland search at the east end of the priory site. They must form a long straight line across the width of the search area and always remain within sight and hearing of their neighbours to left and right. The stores had equipped them with stout footwear, hiking gear and sticks with which to probe the ground and they would progress steadily towards the west. Nothing would be
overlooked
and if any searcher found something of interest he must call out and halt the advancing line. As they progressed they must repeatedly call out Simon’s name in case he could hear them – even if he was trapped underground, it was hoped he might realize help was nearby and call out to guide them. Father Will Redman would take his turn on duty in the cop shop to deal with telephone calls and enquiries; police dogs would carry out the underground searches.

As the eager monkstables left their operations centre, I said I would join them later because I was now going to the murder room to inform Detective Chief Superintendent Napier of our plans and to get updated on the murder hunt. As the eager
monkstables marched across the campus like a squad of soldiers, I entered the murder room to find DI Lindsey in charge. Both DCS Napier and DS Sullivan had left to organize a search of the northern woodland for Harvey, leaving the teams to continue their questioning around the campus.

I told Brian Lindsey what we were doing and mentioned the girl working in the infirmary, saying a monkstable would
interview
her when the opportunity arose. Clearly, she was not missing – we’d have been told if she was. I asked him to direct the dog team to the old priory site and ask for me.

‘PC Elaine Newton is the handler’s name,’ he told me. ‘Obviously, their other job has taken longer than anticipated, but she’ll be here shortly.’

‘I thought your boss might want them to hunt for Harvey.’

‘He thinks the safety of the missing pupil is more important,’ I was told. ‘He’s sure Harvey will turn up in due course. Mr Napier knows Harvey of old and says he’ll turn up full of apologies – he is known for absconding when he’s under
pressure
and always returns like a naughty puppy. But we must search hereabouts; we can’t ignore his dash for freedom!’

‘So long as he doesn’t attack someone,’ I ventured.

‘Mr Napier has stressed he’s not violent even if he did attack a rapist, he’s just a big clumsy man, surprisingly so for a sculptor. The boss says the fact he’s done a runner doesn’t mean he’s guilty of murder but we still need to clear him of all suspicion.’

‘I understand. So any news of the victim? Has “Mr Thorpe” been positively identified?’

‘Local detectives are visiting the area around the false address he gave but no one admits knowing him. We’ve got nothing yet from his fingerprints but the CRO check should give us a lead, the result should soon come through. However, his alias “Thorpe” has no criminal record. There may be
something
recorded under his real name if we can discover it. There’s a lot of activity going on behind the scenes, Nick.’

‘Can I ask about Thorpe’s movements before his body was
found? He must have had contact with other people, spoken to someone whether they were attending the course or not. There’s always a social element to these things. Have we confirmed how he arrived here?’

‘Other than Mrs Morley saying he got a lift from a friend, we know nothing more. She didn’t see the friend drop him off. We’ve checked local buses and taxi firms, and he didn’t use them and we’re satisfied he has no transport of his own. None of the checks of vehicles on the campus has thrown up his name. The DVLC has no record of a vehicle at the address he gave and our searches of his room and clothing haven’t revealed a wallet or any money. The search of his clothing in the coffin revealed nothing either – all his belongings seem to have been removed.’

‘He must have carried some money!’

‘We know he paid for his course on arrival – in cash. That behaviour is quite normal if he was trying to be anonymous. But if he carried a lot of cash it might have been noticed by an unsavoury character – and that suggests a possible motive for his death – robbery.’

‘That makes sense.’

‘On Friday he attended a lecture in the library at three o’clock. It lasted about an hour and there was refreshments afterwards. We think he left the library shortly before five and returned to his room, then he later turned up for supper in the dining-room of the retreat centre. That was at eight.’

‘And the other attendees?’

‘All the other course members were there too. After the meal, they sat around in the lounge chatting and showing photos of some of their discoveries.’

‘All fairly normal for that kind of event, eh?’

‘Absolutely. Then, shortly before ten Mr Thorpe bade everyone goodnight and went to his room. Alone.’

‘So he’s had no meetings with anyone? No long walks in the evening?’

‘That’s something we don’t know, Nick, but it appears not.
He came down for breakfast on Saturday morning and attended a lecture from nine thirty until ten thirty, and then joined a group that went to Whitby Abbey with a tour of the area afterwards. They returned late that afternoon and had supper at seven thirty. Thorpe was there but no one has seen him since.’

‘And Sunday?’

‘No one reports seeing him on Sunday. Sunday was a free day but it is expected that visitors will attend mass at ten, and join the monks for coffee afterwards. Lunch is provided for those who wish to remain on the campus and places like the libraries and sports facilities are open to all. The fact no one saw him on Sunday didn’t cause alarm – some people do make use of the centre as a base for exploration. They treat it like a B&B and do their own thing. It is quite feasible to go off on one’s own without causing concern, especially on a Sunday.’

‘Was he a Catholic?’ I asked.

‘We don’t know. There is no indication he was – there was no missal or other Catholic artefact in his room or upon his body. Being a Catholic is not a condition of acceptance for the course.’

‘And his body was found this morning.’

‘Right, Nick. Timing a death is not a precise science. Even though the pathologist thinks he was killed early on Sunday morning, he could have died on Saturday night or any time on Sunday. He can’t be more specific except to express a belief he died very early on Sunday. But that is just an opinion, not a fact.’

‘So have your teams managed to find out anything about the archaeologist?’

‘We haven’t done in-depth research into him – he’s not entered the frame and our initial enquiries suggest he’s genuine enough. There’s nothing remarkable about him. The particulars he gave to the abbot’s office when he applied to carry out his excavation have been checked and verified. He’s a well-known independent operator; we’ve also checked his
helpers. They’re all students at York University, all listed in the records with no convictions. So no problems there. They come and go each day in a people carrier, Rawdon remained alone on site over the weekend to finish off some important tasks. He’s not sure when they are going to leave – it depends on what they find. And we know his van – borrowed from a friend – is taxed, tested and insured. Its registered keeper is Leonard Larkfield from Newcastle-on-Tyne. We’ve been to his address – which is genuine – but Larkfield isn’t at home. His
neighbours
don’t know where he’s gone. Apparently, he’s often away for long periods.’

‘Thanks for all this, Brian. It helps me when I’m dealing with our monkstables. I’m going to Ashwell Priory now as they begin their concentrated search for Simon.’

I decided to take my car across the valley and leave it there in case I needed it. As I passed through the gently downward sloping valley I could see the wooded area that contained the ruined priory. My two barns were prominent against the
background
of trees and hills and I could just discern movements of the white helmeted monks as they began their search. I drove onto the area in front of the barns, parked, and decided this was a good place to await PC Elaine Newton and her police dogs. I had a good view of the mainly deciduous woodland being searched and I wondered if any progress was being made. Perhaps it was too early to expect a result? My initial impression was that many trees appeared to be unstable, including some suffering from ash die-back. Several had crashed to earth during last night’s storms and were lying at awkward or even dangerous angles against huge boulders and stronger trees. Was it feasible that Simon could be among them? And still be alive?

Then I heard a voice hailing me and someone tapped on the driver’s side window. It was Barnaby Crabstaff and he shouted, ‘Hello, Mr Rhea, have you come to look for more nightjars?’

I climbed out and immediately saw Claude Jeremiah
Greengrass descending the ladder from Barnaby’s flat – or hayloft as we might describe it.

‘Not nightjars this time, Barnaby. We looking for that student I mentioned to you. There’s still no sign of him.’

‘Now then, Constable Rhea,’ as unkempt as ever with long hair and a grey beard, Greengrass had now joined us, still wearing his old ragged army coat. ‘What brings you here? Not checking on us, I hope – you know, me and my pal here have just been talking about old constables and troublemakers, and then you turn up. Amazing. Have you been eavesdropping?’

‘Give over, Claude! Who would want to spy on an old rogue like you? You’ll be retired now—’

‘Retired? How can I afford to retire, I have to make a living. I don’t get a pension like coppers do. I’m a busy general dealer, Constable Rhea, and me and Barnaby like to have business meetings now and then. Which is what we were doing when you turned up.’

‘Claude, I have far better things to do than worry about your dodgy business ventures. So what do you know about this missing pupil? And have you seen a big dark-haired fellow dressed in black? We’d like to find him as well.’

‘There’s nobody here but us….’

‘You can search the barns, Mr Rhea,’ invited Barnaby.

‘We’ve a team of police dogs arriving any minute, we’ll get them to search properly,’ I told the old fellows.

‘You’re not looking for stolen property, are you?’ asked Claude. ‘Because nobody’s daft enough to dump it in those woods. It’s not safe in there, besides it’s all fenced off. Then there’s tumbling boulders, falling trees, landslides and all them dark and dangerous tunnels with floods … you take your life in your hands if you go in there, storm or no storm.’

‘Underground tunnels? What do you know about them, Claude?’

He stood before me, blinking like a startled owl but he said nothing.

‘Claude, I’m not interested in your smuggling operations,
past or present. I’m not a police officer any more, I am here to help find a missing pupil and that big man dressed in black. So if you know anything, I hope you’ll help me.’

‘Help the police? Me?’

‘I’m not a policeman any more, Claude. This lad has been missing since midday yesterday, he might be trapped or lying injured. We must find him.’

‘Will there be a reward if I find him?’ Those cunning old eyes blinked again. ‘Me and Barnaby know these woods like the backs of our hands.’

‘Do we?’ Barnaby sounded startled. ‘I never go in there, Claude, I’ve told you that. It’s not safe. All those tunnels and running water and trees falling down even when there’s no gales … rocks tumbling … I keep well clear of the old priory.’

‘Aye, well, mebbe so, but I live at Hagg Bottom, it’s far enough away not to know of such goings on, but I used to explore these woods as a lad, Constable Rhea, and that tells you how long ago it was. I knew every cave, shelter, rabbit run, badger track, foxhole, pheasants’ nesting areas, water course … but I couldn’t get into any of them small spaces now, I’ve expanded here and there.’

‘What do you mean by shelters, Claude?’

He blinked hard again. ‘Did you say a lad was missing?’

‘A youth of seventeen, Claude. He’s not a child, so where could he be?’

‘Would that be his bike, Mr Rhea?’ asked Barnaby. ‘That one that was here until those chaps took it away this morning?’

‘We’re sure he rode it here, Barnaby. It’s not his but when a pupil leaves the college, he usually leaves his old bike behind for others to use. No one claims them so anyone can use them. He probably spotted that one outside the kitchen and helped himself to it. That’s how the system works. He didn’t steal it.’

‘Did he not?’ and Barnaby’s eyes open wide.

‘The college sells ’em off eventually,’ smiled Claude. ‘There’s allus a good market for second-hand bikes. I do ’em up and polish ’em; they earn me a few quid.’

‘Well, someone has to get rid of them, Claude, so you’re doing a good job.’

‘I do my best, in spite of nosy coppers. Anyway, why would that lad want to ride that bike down here, then leave it? What’s he want, coming into these woods? Especially on a day like yesterday? They’re out-of-bounds to students anyroad.’

‘He’s a keen birdwatcher, Claude. I think he might have been hoping to spot something interesting, like a nightjar, just as Barnaby showed me one many years ago. So if that was his intention, where would he go?’

‘Hiding somewhere,’ offered Barnaby. ‘If you come to look for rare birds, you need somewhere quiet to hide and plenty of time to spare.’

‘There’s plenty of good places in them woods, Constable Rhea,’ Claude joined in. ‘Ancient ruins underground, old cells the monks used, little stone houses all buried now but some surviving – they’re the shelters I mentioned. If you know your way in there, you could hide for ever. It’s like a giant
mole-run
.’