Confession at Maddleskirk Abbey Read online

  ‘I’ll get her to take the chopper to the old chapel, say, within the hour, unless the monk is found in the meantime? The pilot and any crew will be fully briefed on arrival.’

  ‘Right, I’ll be there, I’ll hear and see their approach.’

  ‘Right, sir. I hope this proves valuable to your search.’

  ‘I’ll make sure it does, Sergeant!’

  At that stage, Detective Chief Superintendent Napier had no intention of going to the search venue; his presence was needed in the murder room as new information was received and fresh problems arose. Most if not all of the incoming information was negative but it did serve to terminate various unproductive lines of inquiry.

  Much depended upon the outcome of the forensic pathologist’s examination of the remains of the murder victim but he considered it significant that, apart from his clothing, he had no personal belongings with none being found at the scene or elsewhere. It suggested his death was the work of an experienced assassin.

  Professional villains knew how to conceal or destroy evidence but they’d left his clothing untouched and enquiries had established it had come from retailers in the area where the victim had lived.

  It was a small matter but important when confirming his identity. The injuries to the body after death bore all the signs of a fall from a considerable height and so it was necessary to examine the scene again, this time concentrating on the ground at the summit of the nearby cliff.

  Despite the apparent lack of positive progress, Napier was satisfied he knew the identity of Inspector Radcliffe’s killer – the method of killing had revealed that even if it was normally used against other drug dealers. So had Radcliffe defected? Had he become involved with the dealers, working with them instead of against them? Lured by thoughts of wealth? It was something to consider very carefully.

  His chief concern now was to ensure that the case against Michael Goddard for the double murder of the girls could be proven beyond reasonable doubt and that would require the reopening of the original investigation and the inquest. So where was Goddard and what was he doing these days? Had DI Radcliffe been working for him? Or even pretending to work for him? Had he got too close, with catastrophic results? As he pondered his next moves, he wondered about the progress of the search around Whinstone Ridge and called Inspector Carter.

  ‘Napier here, Inspector. Just a check call to see what developments there’ve been in your hunt. You’ve contacted Gold Command, I take it?’

  ‘Yes, sir, all’s in order. We’re in radio link with their control room.’

  ‘Splendid, we must follow the rules – most of the time, that is! Any sign of Father John?’

  ‘Not yet, no further reported sightings, no discarded clothes or signs of him dossing down in the old chapel. I wish that chap who reported it was around to be quizzed a bit more; we’re not sure exactly where he spotted Father John.’

  ‘It’s a big open area, Inspector, so do your best. It’s probably better to prove that he’s not there instead of finding him dead or very ill.’

  ‘We might be in a position to do that, sir, I’ve just had an offer of a helicopter from a firm trading as Linneymoor Ceramics.’

  ‘Have you now? So what have you learned about them?’

  ‘They appear genuine. A man and wife team, Joe and Rachel Morton from Linneymoor village deep in the moors. We’ve checked them out, they own the Old Brickworks in Linneymoor and have revived it to provide clay for their ceramics. It seems there’s still a lot of good-quality raw material in the old clay pits and its perfect for making floor tiles, brooches, dishes, plates, gift boxes, garden ornaments, plant pots, table ornaments, teapots, chain pulls, bathroom fittings – you name it and they seem to make it in their distinctive ceramics. It sells well, even overseas.’

  ‘And they can afford to run a helicopter from that village enterprise?’

  ‘So it would seem, sir.’

  ‘Then I’m in the wrong job! Why are they offering their machine?’

  ‘Free publicity, I guess. They’ll get their helicopter with its business logo in the newspapers and on television. And they might even find the missing man.’

  ‘On the other hand, they might not,’ muttered Napier, adding, ‘When do you expect the ‘copter?’

  ‘Within the hour. The pilot is the owner’s wife, Rachel Morton. He’s called Joe. They need to refuel it and do the usual pre-flight checks before take-off.’

  ‘Then I’ll come along to meet the Mortons and their helicopter. They sound interesting people. If they arrive before me, persuade them to do a circuit or two over the area you’ve not covered, and let the media take its picture. I’ll see you soon.’

  Before doing anything else, Detective Chief Superintendent Napier found a quiet corner and called Inspector Lindsey on his mobile phone.

  ‘Napier here, Brian. There are interesting developments. I think the Goddards have taken the bait. This is now much more than just a search. I suggest you terminate your business around York and get here as fast as you can. I’m heading for Whinstone Ridge, there’s an old chapel of St Aidan up there. You’ll find me somewhere nearby. If anyone – such as the media – asks what’s going on, say we’re searching for Father John Attwood and we’ve a helicopter joining the hunt.’

  ‘Attwood? He’s not there, is he?’

  ‘Of course not, but our helicopter owners don’t know that.’

  ‘I won’t ask any more questions. Where shall I bring my team?’

  ‘To the search area; we can always find them a job.’

  ‘Will co.’

  Napier then returned to the murder room and asked Sergeant Salkeld to join him in his cramped office. He told her to close the door.

  ‘Anything doing, Jane?’

  ‘Nothing special, sir. All quiet in fact.’

  ‘How about our Scarborough actions?’

  ‘No sightings of the missing monk, sir. He’s thought to be on the moors now.’

  ‘Just what we need. There’s a big search with a helicopter about to join us, but he’s not there, Jane. .At the moment, he’s in Scarborough in a safe house, but I’m going to level with you. You need to know what’s going on.’

  ‘Shall I call off the Scarborough teams?’

  ‘No, I’ve another task for them but it means a shift of emphasis. We need to have them making urgent enquiries into a company called Linneymoor Ceramics.’

  ‘They’ve premises not far from Scarborough, I believe.’

  ‘Right. It’s owned and run by a couple called Joe and Rachel Morton, they have a factory in Linneymoor village, the Old Brickworks about twenty miles inland from Scarborough. It reminded me of the drug dealers who smuggled bricks into the prison where Father John was doing his time. They concealed the drugs inside some of the bricks, then John blew the whistle. Despite that, they are still active, Jane, and have moved their centre of operations. But they still seem to like making bricks, probably ornamental ones along with other things for tourists.’

  ‘At Linneymoor?’ she asked.

  ‘Yes indeed. Intelligence shows they dispose of their products in Scarborough and other seaside resorts along that coast, probably from as far north as Redcar down to Bridlington in the south. I’ve had a look at their website and they make the sort of things you expect tourists to buy as souvenirs. Fashionable bricks along with cheap and cheerful stuff. Teapots, mugs, jewellery boxes, model animals, toilet chain pulls, you name it, they make it – and sell it, here and overseas. I think much of their overseas sales are despatched by boat from Scarborough – even meeting other boats somewhere at sea to exchange cargos.’

  ‘Maybe they feel secure because there’s no law against making trinkets and selling them overseas, is there? Is this an HM Customs operation?’

  ‘If I told you that I suspect some of those ceramic packs might contain drugs – heroin, cocaine, cannabis resin …’

  ‘Ah, I’ve been slow, haven’t I?

  ‘Not particularly. After all, the
business is to conceal their real trade. You can see now why this has been kept in the background of our enquiries so far. With Father John’s unwitting help, we’re setting up a sting operation that should net a few drugs, a couple of seasoned dealers and even a killer …’

  ‘This is out of my depth, sir.’

  ‘Nonsense! If you want promotion in the CID, you’ve got to think deeper than local villains stealing scrap metal, nicking cars or burgling houses. So this is what I want you to do, on my orders and in my name, all with the consent of Gold Command. And, I might stress, with a high degree of secrecy.’

  ‘Need I write anything down?’

  ‘No. There’s always a risk of someone else coming across bits of paper like that. Now this is what you must do.’

  Chapter 19

  ‘SUE, IT’S NAPIER speaking from the incident room.’

  ‘Your check code, please, Detective Chief Superintendent.’

  ‘Charlie Oscar 2736.’

  ‘How can I help?’

  ‘It’s urgent. We need Father John to be somewhere else, as soon as possible but certainly within the hour. Can you fix that with your controller and Gold Command?’

  ‘I’m sure there will be no problem. Where do you want us?’

  ‘A half hour’s drive away.’

  ‘No problem. The official car’s here in the garage at the flat.’

  ‘Good. We don’t want any local bobbies stopping you!’

  ‘They won’t. Where do you want us to go? My boss and Gold Command will want to know.’

  ‘Whinstone Ridge, it’s on Eltering Moor to the south of Aidensfield, lofty and deserted but with dense woods on the lower reaches, coniferous and deciduous. Ideal for concealing people, dead or alive. There’s an old chapel on the plateau at the top and we’re using it as our base. Teams of experienced searchers are assembling. There’ll also be a search helicopter bearing the logo of Linneymoor Ceramics; it’s been offered free of charge. Its ETA is within the hour.’

  ‘Now that name rings a bell! They are on our radar! I had no idea they had a helicopter. I didn’t think they could afford such a luxury!’

  ‘They can’t, not by selling their touristy bricks, pots, plates and lavatory chain handles! It’s what’s hidden inside some of their creations and packaging that make money, especially when shipped overseas!’

  ‘Right, I follow that!’

  ‘Good. Now this is important. With your boss’s permission, I’d like you to bring Father John to the search area without his dog collar and clerical suit.’

  ‘Not looking like a priest or monk?’

  ‘Exactly. I want him to look like one of the search party – fluorescent jacket, baseball cap, hiker’s trousers or even tracksuit bottoms. You get the idea? If you’re late, we can start without him.’

  ‘I’m sure we can deal with that – we’ve plenty of holiday-type clothing in the flat.’

  ‘He needs to look nothing like he usually does, that’s the message.’

  ‘I don’t know what you’re up to, Mr Napier, but Gold Command won’t want to get involved in something as low key as a hunt for a lost rambler.’

  ‘You know the answer to that one. I’m relying on you to get your boss’s approval.’

  ‘I’ll have to be open and say we’re hoping to trap a drug dealer and multi-murderer. That should do the trick. Once Father John is suitably equipped, he’ll join the search party and if anyone asks where he’s from, all he has to say is that he’s from Ashfordly and he’s a volunteer. So in effect, he’s looking for himself!’

  ‘If you want to be invisible, Sue, the finest way is to mingle with a crowd all wearing similar clothes and doing the same thing. Have you ever tried identifying one penguin from another?’

  ‘I thought you wanted him to look and act like an old monk who’s got dementia and who’s lost? The idea being that the helicopter would “find” him?’

  ‘I’ve changed my mind, that’s too dangerous. It puts him at an unacceptable risk. Remember we’re dealing with Goddard, a real villain.’

  ‘What do you think he’ll do? My boss will be interested.’

  ‘Intelligence suggests that Goddard disposes of his victims by tossing them out of his helicopter. I think that’s what happened to DI Radcliffe. Father John could be whisked away and dumped in the North Sea – dead. I can’t risk that. And there’s no time for rehearsals.’

  ‘So who will we be looking for?’

  ‘Me. I’ll be armed with a handgun and dressed in a monk’s habit, flitting in and out of the conifers away from the centre of activity so the helicopter will see me briefly whilst the main search party is diverted elsewhere. We’ve already had a reported sighting, so a monk flitting among the trees will really get things moving! I want the helicopter to see me whilst the main search party is diverted elsewhere.’

  ‘I’m familiar with that patch of moorland. It’s good hiking country. Shall I come in hiking gear?’

  ‘Yes, be prepared to join the search party. I might need someone to see a fleeting figure and divert the others if they’re getting too close.’

  ‘I’ll keep my mobile on.’

  ‘Remember that our target – my target – is capable of anything and could have a gun, either in his ‘copter or with him if he leaves. The ‘copter could even be booby trapped if anyone tries to fly it – we must be aware of who we’re dealing with, be wary of his reputation. Goddard, under various identities, stops at nothing; anyone in his way will be disposed of! We need our wits about us. Now, I’ll give you a map reference for Gold Command – and I’ve alerted my chief constable. Can you take Father John to the scene, keep him under cover and in disguise until we’re ready to infiltrate him into the search party? Don’t let him know the truth, it would disturb him too much. He’s done well so far.’

  ‘He’s been quite the actor with me!’

  ‘It’ll require a bit more play-acting but the main thing is that he’s no longer the hunted monk with dementia. I am.’

  ‘So you’ve netted Goddard?’

  ‘Not yet, but I’m getting close.’

  ‘I wish you the best of luck, Mr Napier.’ She ended the conversation. ‘I’ll get things moving fast. See you on Whinstone Ridge.’

  ‘I’ll tell Inspector Carter what’s going on. He needs to know a little more but not a lot.’

  Napier left his office and spotted Detective Sergeant Salkeld as she strode through the murder room.

  ‘Sarge,’ he called to her. ‘Can you add a team of firearms officers to the search? On the chief’s authority – he’s in touch with Gold Command. And I’ll be armed too – officially. I’ll brief the firearms officers when I arrive. Now I’m going to discuss something with Father Will in the cop shop. Has anything else happening that I should know about?’

  ‘Just that we’ve got uniformed police officers already en route to Whinstone Ridge. They’re being joined by more moorland rescue teams and two teams of police dogs with handlers.’

  ‘Great, this is developing well but we’ve no time to waste. Any news about the target helicopter?’

  ‘Nothing, it hasn’t taken off yet.’

  ‘Will you know when it does?’

  ‘Yes, boss. Control room will inform me. I’ll also be told when it lands near the old chapel to await a briefing by Inspector Carter.’

  ‘Good. Keep in touch. Can you contact Friar Tuck straightaway and ask him to join Father Will and me in the cop shop? I don’t think he’ll have gone up to join the search party just yet. Then I’ll come back to see what’s going on before we all head for the moors. Also I need a quiet chat with Inspector Carter.’

  ‘Sir.’

  When he arrived at the cop shop, Prior Tuck was already there.

  ‘I want a chat with you both.’ Napier glanced around the limited accommodation in the little police office. ‘In confidence.’

  ‘We can use my office,’ suggested the prior.

  ‘Secure, is it? From flapping ears and such?’
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br />   ‘Very,’ the prior assured him.

  ‘It might be a good idea if the abbot joined us – he should hear this.’

  ‘I’ll see if he’s available.’

  ‘Right, let’s go.’

  Abbot Merryman thought it wise that he should be fully aware of what was happening in his patch of England and joined the others. His office was at the far end of the upper corridor, only a few yards from the prior’s. When everyone was settled, Napier took control. ‘Thanks for coming, Father Abbot and everyone. I haven’t much time but the world of crime fighting waits for no man. I’m about to join what appears to be a search for Father John. However, as you are all responsible in some way for what happens here, you should have advance warning of my plans. First, and without going into detail, I can tell you that Father John is in safe hands.’

  ‘What a relief!’ sighed the abbot. ‘So why the search?’

  ‘Think back to yesterday morning. A murder victim was found in nearby woodland. He was an undercover police officer operating in the north of England on behalf of the London Metropolitan Police working in co-operation with Greater Manchester Police. Other parties involved are the Security Services, the Serious Organised Crime Agency and its undercover specialist drugs investigative officers. We have not yet released the victim’s name or details of the murder.’

  ‘Can I ask if you have linked that death with Father John’s dilemma?’ asked Abbot Merryman. ‘He’s not the killer, is he? Father John, I mean.’

  ‘Fortunately, no! It’s rather complicated but my first clues were the injuries to the deceased’s body. I thought he had fallen or been pushed from the nearby cliff, then I realized his injuries were too serious for that. He was dead before he hit the ground, that was another clue, and it was when I heard someone had volunteered to search for Father John in a helicopter that I realized what had happened. Detective Inspector Radcliffe, the murder victim, had been killed elsewhere and I’m sure his body was tossed out of a helicopter. His injuries are consistent with a fall from a great height after death. That place in the woodland is upon a helicopter route that avoids the villages so the local people are accustomed to hearing them flying, their noise is not unusual, which is why no one reported suspicious helicopter noises. Now we have someone who is offering a helicopter to search for Father John.’