Murder at Maddleskirk Abbey (16 page)

‘A good idea, Nick. Leave it with me,’ smiled Prior Tuck, and he set off to discuss the problem with one of the site
supervisors
. As he left I could see Elaine gazing around the site with a look of concern on her face.

‘Problems?’ I asked.

‘Holmes still hasn’t returned,’ she told me. ‘I’ve not heard a whimper from him. It’s not like him, Mr Rhea. I hope he hasn’t got himself trapped down there. The problem is he won’t bark unless it’s a person, dead or alive, which means we have no idea where he is and what he might have found. I’ve tried recalling him but he hasn’t responded. I am now very worried – for both Simon and Holmes.’

E
LAINE PRODUCED
A
dog whistle from one of her pockets and hurried to the entrance hole that had been first used by both dogs. She halted beside it and called Holmes’s name then blew hard on the whistle, its pitch being so high that I could not hear it. But it was Sherlock who responded with two barks; she recognized his voice and ordered him to remain on guard. He barked again in response and I had to admit his voice did not sound very far underground. I recognized the hope in his bark, and so did most of the others.

‘He’s OK, he knows what to do but I’m worried about Holmes. We should have heard something from him. I’m going to try some of the other access holes.’

I motioned to one or two helpers who set off with her, but advised them not to follow. If she was going to try and locate the dog guided only by his sounds, she would need as much silence as possible. And so we all hung back and gathered on the roadside, awaiting the return of Prior Tuck. Most of us felt we should be doing something positive rather than just standing around, but there was nothing anyone could do. Hopefully, Prior Tuck would return with a willing contractor who could help to extricate Simon and at least one police dog. For what seemed an eternity therefore, we waited and waited although it was probably not more than twenty minutes at the most. I moved to a bank of higher sloping ground within the wooded area so I could look across towards the construction activity within the grounds. Brother George joined me as we
gazed across the scene before us – a graceful church fronted by sports fields and surrounded by woodland, and before it a conglomeration of vehicles, huts and part-buildings which was producing noisy drilling, clatter and loud music. It was not a peaceful image.

During those few moments Brother George stood at my side, I gained the impression he had something important to say. But he kept quiet as the noise from the construction site filled the air. There was constant movement as the sophisticated machines carried out their complicated and specialized roles. A dizzying number of white vans buzzed around too, apparently aimlessly. I knew they were not wandering around without purpose – they would be fetching and carrying necessities and personnel, bringing in new supplies, or removing unwanted rubbish, or equipment that had completed its functions on site. And all the time there was movement by workmen as they went about their tasks.

I did not wish to interrupt Brother George’s contemplative silence as I wondered if he was praying, but conversely I wondered if he wished to talk to me or whether something was troubling him. As we stood quietly, I could see the knot of helpers and monkstables chattering among themselves. The panorama could be an industrial scene anywhere in England, not a peaceful living abbey full of monks in the depths of the North York Moors.

During the time I had been the village constable at nearby Aidensfield, and since purchasing my own house in Maddleskirk – a period of some fifty years – the expansion of the abbey and college had never halted. New buildings were constantly being added and one of the valued aspects of its presence was that people living in the vicinity could take advantage of its facilities. It was like having a benevolent uncle living nearby. The newly constructed sports centre, with its swimming-pool, indoor tennis, badminton and squash courts and the gymnasium, was available to members of the public, adults and children alike. They gained
admission
when they became members of the Maddleskirk Abbey Sports Club. The public could also attend concerts either in the church or at the sports centre when its indoor courts became an auditorium. Even the school theatre offered
invitations
to the local people for plays or films. Looking upon the huge campus from this distance made me realize it was far bigger and infinitely busier even than its neighbouring village of Maddleskirk. It really did need its own private police force.

These thoughts occupied my mind as I found myself thinking of the contrasting ruined priory. In its heyday, before its destruction by Henry VIII and before his successor, Edward VI ransacked Catholic churches and destroyed their treasures, that old abbey would have been a similarly busy and important place. The modern Maddleskirk Abbey was an amazing recovery from those dark days, second only to its sister abbey at Ampleforth. In the silence of those few minutes while Elaine tried to re-establish contact with Holmes and we awaited a response from the contractors, I was trying to comprehend the impact of the Reformation upon my life and the lives of others. In simple terms, much of it had been glossed over in the history books but old records revealed a sorrowful period with faults on the side of both Protestants and Catholics. As I stood in deep contemplation, one result of those times lay directly beneath the damaged woodland behind me – but we had no time to worry about the past.

Our present dilemma was to find and rescue a young man. With Brother George at my side, I gazed almost unseeingly across the landscape as I awaited the return of Prior Tuck. I noticed in the far distance that an anonymous white van was moving slowly in front of the south door of the church. It was a long way from my vantage point but its slow movement attracted my attention. It was not unusual – contractors’ vans were constantly moving around the site – but this one continued past, then turned away and moved down the slope which would take it towards the part of the campus where the
construction workers were busy. At that distance – I was
probably
half-a-mile away – it looked like a Ford Transit, but, as I watched, I was reminded of the white van used by Harvey. Could it him? Had he returned to the murder room and been re-interviewed by DCS Napier who had dismissed him this time? The contrite return of Harvey had been forecast by the CID but was it actually happening?

I continued to watch as the van headed in our direction. Then it vanished behind a partially constructed
accommodation
block so I regarded the incident as one of those many miniscule daily events that could be expected here. It was of no consequence. Because all the monkstables were gathered in the woodland awaiting the return of their prior, none would have noticed that van – except Brother George. But he was still saying nothing.

With more serious matters to occupy me, I tried to
concentrate
on the job in hand. Then someone called, ‘Here he comes’, and that voice broke the spell of my silent observations. I could see that Prior Tuck was on his way back in Oscar Blaketon’s car followed by a procession of other vehicles.

All the monkstables and other helpers had congregated beside the road, not far from ‘my’ barns. Then I could see the convoy of vehicles and diggers heading our way from the construction site. There were a couple of white vans among them with sundry other cars about to join us. I called to Elaine to alert her.

‘Anything from Holmes?’ I asked.

‘Not a whisper, Mr Rhea. Not a sound….’

‘So Sherlock is still down there?’

‘Yes, I would have thought he would have responded if Holmes had whimpered or made any kind of noise, but he’s not said anything. He will be guarding Simon right now.’

‘What news of Simon?’

‘Nothing. I’m so pleased these men are coming, we need to get down to him wherever he is. I do hope it’s Simon and not someone else!’

‘Reinforcements are on the way.’ I pointed to the procession of oncoming vehicles and their crews. ‘We’ll soon have all the casualties out.’

‘I could always radio for police assistance. Shall I do that now?’

‘Let’s see how our friends cope,’ I suggested. The truth was I didn’t want the police to arrange the rescue of Simon and the dog for that would surely create local publicity, which was precisely what we did
not
require. Until now the press and even the villagers had no idea that a murder investigation was on-going at the abbey. It was very low key probably because the forensic evidence had not yet been fully assessed and the hunt for Simon had accounted for a lot of the activity.
None-the
-less, I felt we had to keep the proverbial lid on this rescue operation by dealing with it ourselves. So far, my contact with the media in both incidents was nil.

As I watching the oncoming convoy, I felt sure we had the personnel, skills and equipment necessary to complete our operation. After all, it was not like a mining disaster where several men could be trapped deep underground with the imminent threat of flooding or collapsing roofs. Despite the imminent help, though, Elaine looked very worried and despondent.

‘Do you think I should radio my inspector?’ she asked me. ‘We’ve always been told not to be afraid of seeking assistance.’

‘Let’s see how things work out,’ I suggested. ‘I know your colleagues would not wish to be diverted for something that might be over in a few minutes, or even before they get here.’

‘Yes, you’re right. But I do worry a lot….’

I wondered whether she was speaking for her dogs or Simon, or for all three, but, as we watched, the convoy of diggers and vans halted on the lane close to our location. It reminded me of an army convoy going into battle. I noticed the white van I’d seen earlier had now joined the tail-end of the convoy along with some other cars. It seemed as if everyone was heading this way….

Prior Tuck clambered out of Blaketon’s vehicle and headed my way so I left Elaine and Brother George to go and discuss tactics. She returned to the hole in the ground into which she had first despatched both dogs and called Holmes’s name. He did not respond so she moved to the new entrance in an attempt to establish contact with Sherlock. Certainly his voice sounded louder and closer when it came from this new hole but again, there was nothing from the other dog. As I watched events unfolding I had no idea how or where to commence the rescue operation and hoped that someone amongst us would know what to do. I was acutely aware of the impending dangers and the entire operation threatened to be very exhausting, tense and nerve-racking.

But Prior Tuck was in charge. I went to meet him as another man wearing spectacles, a hard hat and a bright yellow jacket joined him. From the gathering of monkstables and others who had assembled nearby, I motioned to the two, Father Wills and Father Mutch, to join me – I wanted Father Will Stutely and Father Mutch to be present due to their caving experience and Father Will Redman because of his architectural knowledge. I guessed the prior would be aware of all the valuable
experience
he had at his disposal.

I felt that Father Redman could be useful if the question of stresses and strains on underground timbers, walls or roofs required expert assessment. Indeed he might know a lot about underground conditions too.

Prior Tuck appeared to be totally confident as he took charge of events. He came to speak to my little group and said, ‘I’ve been offered a selection of vehicles, equipment and experts,’ he announced. ‘We’re not sure what’s required so we’ve brought a choice. Once we’ve determined what we should do, the other vehicles and operators can return to work. Now, let me
introduce
Joe Sampson, he’s the site surveyor and has offered his services.’

‘Good afternoon.’ In his bright yellow jacket, Sampson, a tall fair-haired man in his late forties, spoke with a cultured accent.
‘Pleased to meet you all. So can someone explain to me exactly what the current situation is, then we can see what can be done.’

‘Nick?’ asked the prior having been away for a while.

‘Sure.’ I gave my name then offered a full and detailed
explanation
, bringing events up-to-date with the current situation and not forgetting an account of recent problems. I called on Elaine to explain what she had done and how things had
escalated
. I concluded by saying we felt sure that Simon was somewhere beneath the most recent heavy landslide, pointing out there were several entrances including one close by. Elaine had already indicated that at least one of the police dogs was beneath that point. I stressed that we believed Simon was with that dog, probably still alive but unconscious adding that we had had no communication from him. I also referred to the skills of the three monkstables now at my side. Meanwhile, Brother George had wandered off and had returned to the patch of higher ground that gave him an elevated view across the campus. Something was still demanding his attention but he did not seem inclined to share it with anyone. I puzzled over his behaviour – it was as if he was cutting himself off, wanting to be away from all the turmoil and activity which might not produce a good result.

‘First, let me examine the location alone,’ requested Joe, oblivious of my worry about Brother George.

He mounted a secure rock to elevate himself above the crowd and continued. ‘All of you please remain here, I don’t want a crowd of people tramping across the roofs of these passages, as any one of them might collapse and that would create another blockage. Heavy falling stones could kill the boy or animal. We need to take every precaution.’

And so we remained in our small gathering but gathered at the roadside very close to my barns. I suddenly noticed the abbot among the crowd, and was then surprised to see DCS Napier at his side, and, even more surprising, in the
background
was the dark figure of Harvey the sculptor. So it had
been his white van! No one spoke. It was almost as if the sound of voices would break some kind of spell. Elaine joined us, momentarily suspending her hunt for Holmes but at Joe’s request, she did speak as she called Sherlock and we heard his bark from beneath us. In the silence, Joe did not walk on top of the landslide but skirted it gingerly, sometimes stooping to check some minor point with his bare hands and at other times listening carefully with his head on one side. From time to time, he asked Elaine for another guiding bark from Sherlock. He examined the first entrance by which we had thought Simon had entered the underground maze, then shook his head.

He returned to address us. ‘It would be dangerous to dig down from above the area where we believe Simon to be. The landslide has dislodged heavy rocks and sodden earth, and if we excavate downwards from the surface we could disturb the overlying materials and whatever’s beneath. The whole thing could collapse and bury him. The network of monks’ cells will have created a fairly stable system of passages as Simon has managed to get so far underground. And so has Sherlock even if we are uncertain which of the entrances Simon used. Sherlock used the distant one, over there’ – he pointed – ‘but there is one near this location. So, gentleman, if we can’t dig downwards then we must enter from the side, shoring up our tunnelling as we progress. Now, I am told there are three monks with caving experience and
architectural
expertise?’