The Woman In Blue: The Dr Ruth Galloway Mysteries 8 (13 page)

But, as she is getting Kate ready for school, dropping her off and driving through the morning traffic to the university, Ruth keeps thinking about Paula. She’d liked her best out of all the women there last night. She’d seemed interesting and not frighteningly pious. Ruth remembers the Third Prostitute conversation. Paula hadn’t taken herself too seriously, but there was no doubt that she had looked more like an actress than a priest. Ruth remembers her saying that they should reach out to the letter-writer, that he was a ‘soul in torment’. Had that tormented soul now killed her?

When she reaches her office she can feel her phone buzzing in her bag. She swipes open her door and searches in her organiser handbag. Why can she never find anything in any of the compartments? Why doesn’t this seem to happen to other women? When she finally unearths the phone it says: Missed call. Nelson.

‘Nelson. Hi.’

‘Were you at this Briarfields dinner last night?’

‘I’m fine, thank you,’ says Ruth in her head. But she forgives him. He’s in the middle of a murder enquiry, after all.

‘Yes. I can’t believe that Paula’s dead. What happened?’

‘We don’t know yet,’ says Nelson. ‘She got back to her lodging house at about midnight last night. The women stayed up having coffee. Apparently they were all a bit drunk.’

‘They were,’ says Ruth.

‘At some point this Paula Moncrieff must have decided to go for a walk in the grounds. The gardener found her body this morning.’

‘God. How awful.’

‘I’m on my way to the station now,’ says Nelson, ‘but I’ll be speaking to all the women later. I’d like to talk to you too.’

‘Of course. Do you want me to come to the station?’

‘No. I’ll come to your house tonight. It might be quite late, though. Is that all right?’

‘Of course.’

‘Good. See you later.’

He rings off without saying goodbye, but Ruth stays staring at her phone for a long time.

Chapter 18

Giles Moncrieff, Paula’s husband, arrives at the station at midday. Nelson has just finished giving a statement to the press (‘No, we haven’t found the murderer yet’) and he finds Tanya sitting with Giles in his office. There’s a box of tissues on the desk which reminds Nelson of the Sanctuary. It’s times like this when Nelson misses Judy the most. She’s very good with the bereaved, empathetic and caring, but also professional enough to stop the situation collapsing into tears and breakdown. Tanya is saying all the right things, but she is staring at Giles as if he’s an exhibit in the zoo. Giles, a tall man in his thirties who looks like he’d be more at home in cycling shorts, has the shell-shocked look of someone who is hoping that the last few hours have been a particularly nasty dream.

Nelson greets him. ‘I’m so sorry for your loss. Can I get you anything?’

Giles shakes his head. ‘No. Sergeant . . . er . . . the sergeant has been very kind.’

‘Sergeant Fuller,’ says Tanya unnecessarily.

‘You’ll want to see your wife’s body,’ says Nelson. ‘Sergeant Fuller will take you there in a minute. You can take as long as you want.’

Giles stares at him blankly. ‘I just can’t believe it. Paula. I mean, she was just here for a conference. I encouraged her to go. “It’ll be a break for you,” I said. It’s hard work with the parish and a young child. Christ, I wish she hadn’t come.’

Nelson pulls round his chair so that the desk isn’t between them. ‘This must be very difficult for you,’ he says, ‘but you’ll appreciate that we have to find the person that did this to Paula. I promise you that we won’t rest until we do. So, anything that you can tell us about Paula now will be invaluable. Anything that might be relevant.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, for example, had anyone been threatening her? Sending her abusive letters, for example.’

Giles looks more nonplussed than ever. ‘No. Everyone loved Paula. Her parishioners adored her. When Jack was born they threw a surprise party for her. On her birthday we had so many cakes we had to give them to a shelter for the homeless. Oh God . . .’ He looks helplessly at Nelson and Tanya. ‘How am I going to tell Jack?’

‘How old is Jack?’ asks Nelson.

‘He’s four. He’ll be starting school in September. He was so happy. Paula had already bought his uniform.’ He rubs his eyes but can’t stop the tears. Tanya hands him the box of tissues. ‘Who’s looking after Jack now?’ she asks.

‘My parents. They’re devastated too. They loved Paula.’

‘What about Paula’s parents?’ asks Nelson.

‘They’re dead,’ says Giles. ‘They died when she was a child. Paula had a terrible childhood really, she was in children’s homes, with various foster parents, in and out of care. But it never made her bitter. She was extraordinary.’

‘How long had she been a priest?’ asks Nelson.

‘Only two years. She was still a curate when Jack was born. That’s why it was such a big thing for her, being invited on this course. Paula was an actress when I met her. She used to joke that she wasn’t very good, but she was, she could have gone a long way. I mean, she was beautiful too. Beautiful and talented. But she wanted to do good in the world, she said. Look where that got her.’

‘I’m sure she did do good in the world,’ says Nelson.

Giles looks at him. ‘Do you believe in God, Inspector?’

‘I’m not sure,’ says Nelson honestly. ‘Sometimes I think I do.’

‘Well, I don’t,’ says Giles. ‘How could a just God let this happen?’

Nelson has no answer to this and, after a few more desultory questions, Tanya leads Giles Moncrieff off to the morgue.

*

All in all, Nelson is glad of the distraction of the drive to the Sanctuary. The only problem is that he’s a passenger, which he hates. He usually insists on driving (in defiance of the protocol that it should be the junior officer who takes the wheel), but he doesn’t think that Michelle’s little Matiz is quite suitable for the job. Besides they need room in the back for Stanley Greenway. Nelson is determined to bring him back to the station to get DNA and fingerprint samples.

Clough is obviously relishing being at the wheel. When he turned the engine on, Bastille had blasted from the CD player. Nelson recognises the group because they are one of his daughter’s favourites and rightly suspects the influence of Clough’s girlfriend, Cassandra. Left to himself Clough is strictly a rock ballads man.

‘So,’ says Clough, pulling out to overtake a tractor, ‘do you think Greenway is our man?’

‘Never assume,’ says Nelson mechanically. He is thinking about Michelle. He had rung her from the station, but the phone had gone through to answerphone. At least she can’t be with Tim because he’s still going door-to-door in Walsingham. Nelson fully plans to keep him employed there for several days. Weeks, if necessary.

‘But a convicted sex offender . . .’ says Clough.

‘Being obsessed with a young girl doesn’t make you a killer,’ says Nelson.

‘Doesn’t hurt, though,’ says Clough.

‘I admit I’ll be interested to see where he was last night,’ says Nelson. ‘Whoever attacked Michelle obviously hung around and got lucky when Paula went walking in the grounds.’

‘How is Michelle?’ says Clough. ‘Must have been bloody frightening for her.’

‘She’s OK,’ says Nelson. ‘Insisted on going in to work today.’

‘Probably the best thing. Take her mind off it.’

‘Yes,’ says Nelson. They are stuck behind another farm vehicle. Nelson drums his fingers on the glove compartment. ‘You can overtake here.’

‘Better not,’ says Clough, ‘it’s a tricky bend.’

A BMW powers past them, proving Clough right, which doesn’t improve Nelson’s mood. On the next straight stretch, Clough pulls out smoothly to pass.

‘That Paula didn’t look like a woman vicar, did she?’ says Clough.

‘How many women vicars have you met?’ asks Nelson. But he knows what Clough means. Seeing Paula’s picture stuck up on the board beside Chloe’s had been startling. Although the two women hadn’t been identical – Paula was older, for one thing – the resemblance was striking. Both had long blonde hair and classically beautiful features. When Nelson had added a snapshot of Michelle – taken from home that morning – there had been gasps in the room. Not just because she was the boss’s wife, but because the three women could have been sisters.

‘The scene wasn’t the same, though,’ he says now. ‘Chloe’s body was hidden in the ditch. It was positioned there with care, the rosary on her chest. Paula’s body seemed to have been left where she fell. No rosary, no arrangement of the body.’

‘Could just be that the killer didn’t have time. Maybe he was interrupted.’

‘Who would have interrupted him in the abbey grounds in the middle of the night?’

‘I don’t know, but the murders look pretty similar to me. Same method, for one thing.’

Chris Stephenson has confirmed that Paula died from manual strangulation. ‘Would have had to be someone fairly big and strong. She was a tall woman.’ She was a tall, beautiful woman – like Chloe, like Michelle – but she hadn’t been expecting an attack. She had been wandering in the grounds, slightly drunk, probably thinking lovely thoughts about heaven and angels and fluffy clouds. It wouldn’t have taken a very strong person to have overpowered her. Only someone determined.

They drive on in rather uncomfortable silence.

*

Doctor McAllister is definitely less friendly than before.

‘Have you got a good reason for wanting to see Stanley? He’s in a rather vulnerable state just now.’

‘He’s a person of interest in our inquiry,’ says Nelson. ‘So it’s very important that we speak to him. You can sit in on the interview if you like.’

The doctor looks at him squarely through her intimidating glasses. ‘Is this because of his previous conviction?’

‘That’s part of it,’ says Nelson, ‘as is his relationship with Chloe Jenkins.’

‘But you can’t suspect him for last night’s attack? He was here.’

‘Are you sure of that?’ says Nelson. ‘Because Chloe Jenkins got out without you or your staff being any the wiser.’

Fiona McAllister shoots him an unfriendly look, but she seems to take the point. She picks up the phone. ‘I’ll get someone to bring Stanley here,’ she says. ‘It’s probably better if we talk in my office.’

Stanley is wearing his usual tracksuit, and he looks thin and stooped and nervous. There’s no sign, though, that he looks any more nervous than usual. He blinks at Nelson in surprise, but takes the seat offered by Doctor McAllister and awaits questions calmly, as if this is just another group session.

‘Mr Greenway,’ Nelson begins. ‘When we came to see you last, you told us that you sometimes went to church with Chloe Jenkins. To St Simeon’s. Is that right?’

‘Yes,’ says Stanley. ‘I went a few times.’

‘Did you know the vicar, Larry Westmondham?’

Stanley swallows but answers quietly. ‘I think I met him before. In my former life.’

‘Talking of your former life,’ says Nelson, ‘you didn’t tell us the reason that you left the priesthood.’

‘I’m still a priest,’ says Stanley. ‘Technically.’

‘But you didn’t tell us that you served a jail sentence for having sex with a minor.’

Fiona McAllister cuts in. ‘Is this relevant, Inspector?’

But Stanley raises his hand, curiously dignified. ‘It’s all right, Doctor McAllister. No, I didn’t tell you that, Inspector, because I knew you wouldn’t understand. I loved Shelley and she loved me.’

‘And did you love Chloe Jenkins?’

‘What are you getting at?’

‘Where were you on the night of 19th February?’

‘Here, of course.’

‘And last night?’

Stanley looks around the room. ‘Why are you asking me that?’

‘Just answer the question please.’

Nelson expects Stanley to say, again, that he was at the Sanctuary, blamelessly in his room. But, instead, he looks apologetically at Fiona and says, ‘I went for a walk.’

It’s hard to say which of the three people listening is more surprised by this. But it’s the doctor who exclaims, ‘What do you mean, you went out for a walk?’

‘It was a lovely night,’ says Stanley, ‘so I went for a walk over the fields.’

‘But you’re not allowed out of the house at night. You have to sign out.’

‘I know. I’m sorry.’

Nelson has had enough. ‘Mr Greenway, I’m going to have to ask you to come to the police station with us.’

‘Am I under arrest?’ Stanley’s voice is gently curious.

‘No. This is purely voluntary. However, I would like your permission to take fingerprints and DNA swabs.’

‘Do I need a lawyer?’

The question is addressed to Doctor McAllister, but Nelson answers, ‘You are entitled to call a solicitor but I must stress that you’re not under arrest.’ Yet, he adds to himself.

‘I’ll need my coat.’

‘I’ll come to your room with you,’ says Fiona McAllister.

Nelson and Clough wait in the hall with the looming fireplace and the waxy flowers. The grandfather clock ticks importantly, but Nelson notices with irritation that it’s half an hour slow. He paces to and fro while the receptionist eyes him anxiously.

‘Think he’s made a run for it?’ says Clough.

‘You can catch him, if so. You’re always telling me how fit you are.’

‘I could beat Tim in a race.’

‘I don’t doubt it.’ Nelson turns as he hears someone descending the stairs. But it’s not Stanley. It’s a tall man in clerical black. A man with white hair and broad shoulders.

‘Father Hennessey?’

‘Harry. My dear boy.’

‘What are you doing here?’

‘Visiting the sick. There are a lot of troubled souls in these places.’

‘Ruth said she saw you in Walsingham the other day.’

‘Yes. I’m here on a private visit. Ruth looked well. I can’t believe the little one is at school.’

Nelson is never sure what Father Hennessey knows about Katie. Once, at a very low point in his life, Nelson confessed to the priest that he had slept with a woman, who then got pregnant. A year later Father Hennessey had baptised Katie, and Nelson knows that he is capable of putting two and two together. He remembers the priest saying, ‘A child is always a blessing.’ Well, he was right there. But, today, Father Hennessey doesn’t seem inclined to talk.

‘I’d better be on my way. Lovely to see you, Harry. And you too, David. God bless you both.’

And he hurries out of the door, leaving Clough staring after him.

‘How did he know my name?’

‘He’s met you before. Remember, six years ago, when we found that body in the old children’s home? He was the priest that used to run the home.’

‘I remember,’ says Clough. ‘I never trusted him. He looked pretty shifty just now.’

And Nelson, although he both likes and trusts the priest, has to admit that Clough has a point.

*

There is a small group of reporters at the front of the station so Clough drives round to the back entrance. Stanley Greenway still seems in a dream, hardly noticing his surroundings, but Nelson dreads to think what will happen when the press pack find out about his previous conviction. He can see the headlines now.

Tanya meets them at the door, eyes wide with excitement.

‘Sergeant Fuller,’ says Nelson, ‘can you take Mr Greenway and organise fingerprints and a DNA swab? He’s not under arrest and is free to leave at any time.’

‘Yes, boss.’ Despite Nelson’s words, Tanya grasps Stanley’s arm firmly. ‘This way, Mr Greenway.’

Nelson and Clough shut themselves in Nelson’s office.

‘What do you think?’ asks Nelson.

‘I don’t like him,’ says Clough, somewhat predictably. ‘He’s a convicted sex offender and he hasn’t got an alibi for last night.’

‘He hasn’t got a motive either.’

‘She looked like Chloe. Didn’t he say that he loved Chloe? When you interviewed him before?’

‘Yes. They both said it. Stanley and Jean, the older woman who had befriended her. At the time I thought she was a substitute child for them.’

‘Stanley didn’t sound very paternal towards the other girl. What was her name? Shelley. He said he loved her and she loved him.’

‘No,’ said Nelson, remembering the shambling figure in the tracksuit. ‘There’s no fool like an old fool.’ And he’s a fool too, he thinks. He’s a fool for trusting his wife. How many times over the last year had Michelle told him that she was working late or at the gym? And he’d believed it every time, wrapped up in his work and his own life. But, curiously, it’s Tim’s betrayal that hurts most. He had brought Tim down from Blackpool, made him one of the team, one of the family. He had thought that Tim liked him and looked up to him. Well, you live and learn.