Confession at Maddleskirk Abbey Page 20

  ‘He could be genuine,’ suggested Prior Tuck.

  ‘He could, but he isn’t. Joe Morton, the man behind Linneymoor Ceramics, is a known drugs baron. I checked him out, as we say, not by normal CRO but by our secret files. His real name is Michael Goddard. …’

  ‘Now it’s all beginning to make sense,’ said Father Will. ‘I never knew criminals could be so deceptive. Or rich! Goddard, the man who framed Father John!’

  ‘I’m sure I heard something about our local murder on the radio,’ said the abbot, frowning.

  ‘Possibly. We announced that we’re investigating the death but didn’t give any details, neither did we confirm it was murder,’ said Napier. ‘However, on Saturday evening, Father Will stood in for his friend, Father John. During the confessions a woman arrived and spoke to Father Will who is bound by the seal of confession. I do not believe she was a Catholic or that she delivered a true confession but I do believe she thought she was speaking to Father John because his name was above the confessional – Father Will hadn’t changed the name-board.’

  The expression on Father Will’s face indicated that he was still deeply upset by that encounter. None of the others at that meeting noticed the signs of grief.

  ‘Father Will.’ Napier lowered his voice a little. ‘Without breaking the seal of confession, could you say your experience was enough to deeply unsettle you or perhaps any other priest who might have been in that confessional instead of you?’

  The monk thought for a while, then nodded. ‘Yes, definitely.’

  ‘That’s what was intended but it was not directed at you. It was a warning reinforced by the stiletto dagger in the confessional. A message and a warning – both intended for Father John. To unsettle him, frighten him. Even to get him accused of murdering the man in the woods by planting evidence. We know who was behind it – it was the gang who had killed the undercover policeman. Their trademark is death by a stiletto wound through the back of the neck – and that gang is led by Michael Goddard, now a highly successful drug dealer worth millions.’

  ‘So why does he want rid of Father John?’ asked the abbot.

  ‘Some years ago, Goddard framed Father John for the murder of two little girls. Father John was then his neighbour and his name was John Jacobson. But since his release from prison, Father John has been working on his own cold-case review. He’s gathered enough evidence to justify a cold-case review that will implicate Goddard.’

  ‘I helped him.’ Father Will spoke quietly. ‘He has been steadily gathering evidence that will prove his innocence and I have spoken to him at length, and seen his files.’

  ‘Now you know why Goddard, under whatever name he is now operating, wants to eliminate Father John – after making sure he is targeting the right person. Goddard discovered John had been released on licence and is now a monk here, but I guess he’s not sure which one. Some time has passed since those murders. He looks much older and has a new identity. Goddard’s highly efficient criminal network has almost traced Father John. I shall be there when he finally does.’

  Abbot Merryman said, ‘So what you’re saying, Mr Napier, is that Goddard intends to eliminate Father John, whom he considers a real threat?’

  ‘Yes, and there is also the revenge element because John discovered how drugs were being imported into prisons and he alerted the authorities. Goddard was prosecuted and his rich line of lucrative sales halted.’

  ‘And Goddard’s not the sort of man to sit back and do nothing!’ commented Prior Tuck.

  ‘Far from it. But in my view,’ added Napier, ‘he wants more than Father John’s extinction – he must find and destroy the file that John has amassed. It will remain relevant even if John is not around to give evidence.’

  ‘Father John must have been aware that he was in some kind of danger, heading off like he did on the pretext of a hospital appointment!’ exclaimed Prior Tuck.

  ‘Let’s just say it has all been planned and he was made aware of the dangers but insisted on helping us. We’d received intelligence from Manchester to the effect that he was at serious risk. Certain high-class villains – if that’s the right word – were out to get him – kill him, maim him, get revenge – and in time they discovered his new identity and where he was based. It was only a matter of time before they dealt with him. We had to make use of certain subterfuges to flush them out.’

  ‘So you’re saying that Father John’s disappearance was a staged event?’ puzzled the abbot.

  ‘Yes, and it was made to look like the work of criminals to throw any local villainous informers off the scent. And we’ve located Goddard under a new identity, now manufacturing ceramics and living near Scarborough. Mission almost accomplished!’

  ‘And now you are staging another event that involves poor Father John?’

  ‘He’ll be safe.’ Napier sounded very confident. ‘I’ll see to that. I’ll do all the dangerous stunts.’

  ‘Then we shall all pray for him and for you!’ said the abbot, smiling.

  ‘The monkstables will be there to help,’ added Prior Tuck, looking at his watch. ‘They’ll be there now. I felt I was more use here, staffing the cop shop.’

  ‘We’ll need all the help I can get, both here and there,’ admitted Napier. ‘Now I must go. I want to arrive after everyone else so can any of you find me a monk’s habit with a hood? I need a very large one. I am going to be playing the part of an elderly senile monk who is lost on the moors. And I want Goddard to find me.’

  Chapter 20

  NAPIER, ALONE AND in an unmarked police car, drove into the parking area and found a space among the search vehicles that had already arrived. He was dressed in his usual working clothes – a dark suit – but the monk’s hooded habit, a large heavy garment, was in the boot. He would head for the woodland before donning that. First, he needed a confidential word with Inspector Carter and called him on his mobile.

  ‘Napier,’ he introduced himself. ‘I’m in the parking area, Inspector. A small grey car. Can you spare a couple of minutes? Here? Now? Just you and me.’

  ‘Sir,’ acknowledged the inspector.

  Inspector Ray Carter, a sharp-featured man with a neat moustache, looked rather too small to be a police officer, which perhaps explained why he was such a good detective. Now a uniformed inspector, his usual duties meant he was in charge of Eltering sub-division. He was quickly at Napier’s side and settled in the front passenger seat, dressed in hiking gear with an orange fluorescent jerkin bearing the legend ‘POLICE SEARCH’.

  ‘I won’t keep you long, Inspector,’ began Napier. ‘But this is important, too important for flapping ears and the press to get hold of. First, though, how are things progressing?’

  ‘Very well, sir. We’ve a good turn-out, everything from willing volunteers and your monk-constables to the Moorland Rescue Service and a team of hikers. We’ve around sixty or seventy searchers, I’d say. I’ve briefed them and some are already out there searching their allocated areas. There are a few press reporters too, and photographers. We’re waiting for the police dogs and the firearms unit to arrive; they’re coming from headquarters. It’s a long drive but they should be here soon.’

  ‘It all sounds promising. Is there any sign of the missing monk making use of the chapel, by the way?’

  ‘It’s difficult to say. It’s often used by hikers who leave all sorts behind, but there’s nothing in there looks very recent.’

  ‘Good. So what about that ceramic chap with his helicopter? Any news of him?’

  ‘No sign yet, sir. No word of take-off either.’

  ‘He’ll be checking things, making sure he’s not been set up but he’ll be here soon, you can bet on that,’ said Napier with confidence. ‘What about sightings of the missing monk? Any reports from the public hereabouts? The search has already featured on local radio.’

  ‘Nothing, sir, not a whisper. I think that’s very odd … he must have gone to ground somewhere. We have the press here, local radio and TV news too, ther
e’ll be cameras and microphones everywhere.’

  ‘That could be good for us. More people will come and join the search if it goes on for a long time, which it won’t, I can assure you of that! Father John has not gone to ground so listen carefully.’ Napier explained the situation as he outlined his plan, including the fact he would become the ‘lost’ monk clad in a black habit complete with a cowl. This was his plan because he wanted to arrest Joe Morton, the owner of the ceramics helicopter. He explained why, making sure the inspector realized exactly what sort of villains they would be dealing with, and provided their real identities.

  ‘Do you know whether he’s using a pilot or flying the thing himself?’ he asked Carter.

  ‘His wife is the pilot. But if he’s as violent as you suggest, won’t we need armed officers to deal with him?’

  ‘I’ve arranged that, they’ll be here soon and I’m armed. I need you to work out a feasible scheme to prevent Morton/Goddard’s helicopter leaving the scene, especially if he succeeds in getting Father John on board by fair means or foul. That’s the risk I’m taking. Now, in my guise as the fleeing monk, I will vanish into those trees like a wraith, only to surface somewhere in my highly recognizable monk’s habit to ensure Goddard’s helicopter sees me. Everyone will think I am the lost monk even if monks don’t wear their cowls away from church or the abbey. When I am sighted, the helicopter will take to the air to locate me and monitor my movements. Then I’ll hide until I can deal with them – with a little help from my friends, of course!’

  ‘I’ll look out for you too and direct it in the right direction.’

  ‘Be sure you do that.’

  ‘I will but if the ‘copter belongs to who you say it does, surely he or the machine will be armed?’

  ‘More than likely, Inspector. It might also be booby-trapped if we try to get into it without its owner’s permission. I’m sure you realize that bombs can now be set off using mobile phones – that’s something we’ll have to worry about if it happens. We can’t rehearse this, Inspector, but my gut feeling is that Goddard/Morton will be totally focused on capturing Father John alive. He has unfinished business with him – that’s what all this is about. Our overriding concern is that he does not succeed in getting the monk on board his helicopter – he won’t, because it will be me. But you now understand why I don’t want him to find Father John.’

  ‘I’m not quite sure what you’re up to but I can do as I’m told. So where is Father John? Do you know?’

  ‘He’s on his way to join the search – to join those who are looking for him! He’s got a minder with him, a capable security officer known as Sue, and she will dress him up as a searcher. She’ll be armed but he’ll join the others. No one will recognise him in his search gear – not many people know what he looks like anyway.’

  ‘Does he really have to be here?’

  ‘Unfortunately, he does. I need him to identify Morton as the man he knew as Goddard, even if a few years have passed since they last met. Fingerprints will do that eventually but photographs are unreliable and can be doctored. In any case, I need to know immediately.’

  ‘I think I’ve got all that. My job, then, is to make sure the searchers don’t get their hands on you, even if you are spotted in the distance, but to allow the helicopter to get close but not close enough to whisk you on board and fly you away somewhere?’

  ‘In a nutshell, yes. Of vital importance is the need to prevent the helicopter taking off afterwards, Inspector. I want to seize it as evidence. It could have drugs on board or merely an empty secret compartment for them. If so, it will bear traces that can be found. I need that evidence if I’m to nail this man. I want the helicopter flown to the forensic lab to be examined for blood too – the blood of Detective Inspector Radcliffe in particular. I believe his body and others were pushed out of it, some perhaps into the sea. If so, there must be some evidence of their presence despite being cleaned – blood or DNA. I have a qualified pilot standing by – her name is Sue. What we do not want is Morton to take off and disappear into the wide blue yonder. We might never see him or his helicopter again. Remember he’s got a double murder charge to answer at the very least, not to mention a stack of drugs offences.’

  ‘If he has a pilot fired up and ready, we might have problems.’

  ‘Problems are to make us think, Inspector, not to worry. Now, Sue and Father John will be here soon. First, I’ll get them to rendezvous with me in the car park, then she’ll bring him to you. Both will be dressed as volunteer searchers. Let them join other search parties but don’t let them wander away on their own, they’ll stand out like sore thumbs. They must merge into the background – Morton won’t be looking for them, he’ll have his eyes open for a monk in distress, not a man like me who is capable of defending himself! We’ll keep in touch on our mobiles.’

  ‘Sssh!’ Inspector Carter held his finger up. ‘Helicopter! I can hear it in the distance, heading this way.’

  ‘I won’t appear in my monk’s robes just yet, Inspector. When the ‘copter lands, say you’ve had a sighting of the monk in Eagle Wood, that’s half a mile south from here, just over that brow. When I’m ready, I’ll call you and that’s the time to send a few searchers in that general direction before the ‘copter lands – it will make things look authentic. I’ll go as well, but not in the cowl – I’ll carry my habit and turn into a monk once I’m among those trees. Then I’ll let the helicopter get a glimpse of me. This is going to be fun. …’

  ‘I’d hardly call it that!’

  ‘Then let’s refer to it as Exercise Phoenix.’

  Chapter 21

  SUE PERSUADED FATHER John to remain out of sight until the briefing was over; she did not want any of the monkstables or anyone else recognizing him, particularly passengers in the incoming helicopter that sounded very close. A few moments later, it appeared from behind distant trees, a handsome Robinson R44 in the cream and terracotta livery of Linneymoor Ceramics. As everyone watched its noisy approach, Napier took the opportunity to slip away, using whins and conifers as cover as he made for the dense woodland over which the helicopter had just flown.

  All attention was upon the aircraft as it touched down on a piece of smooth ground a hundred yards or so from the chapel, sending up clouds of dust and debris as its rotors slowly came to a halt, watched by a crowd of eager searchers gathered for their briefing. Some were carrying hiking sticks, others had brought their dogs and most had well-filled backpacks in the event of a protracted search. Many volunteers were members of experienced search organizations such as Moorland Search and Rescue, or the National Park team. The uniformed monkstables were there too as were teams from the county police and other organizations – even the Young Farmers had sent a team of three sturdy young men. Two local doctors with experience of moorland searches had also volunteered.

  From his vantage point on the stretch of elevated ground near the old chapel, Inspector Carter watched events, seeing that Napier had now disappeared into the distant woodland and that Father John was out of sight and awaiting his role in this curious affair. Carter felt it was all rather over the top, much more than a search for a missing monk, but he had faith in Napier’s actions.

  The engine of the Ceramics helicopter was switched off and the rotors almost halted before its crew prepared to disembark. The pilot was a woman but both she and her male companion were dressed in flying suits fashioned in the colours of their aircraft.

  As the rotors reduced their spinning to almost a standstill, the couple ducked out of their doors and made their way towards the crowd. Inspector Carter raised a hand in greeting – the crowd blocked his way towards meeting them and so he was unable at that stage to bid them a welcome. Having acknowledged Mr and Mrs Morton, he would speak to them after the briefing.

  With help from the leader of the Moorland Search and Rescue, each group leader, and the helicopter crew, were issued with local large-scale maps. All were able to read them and from these it was clear that the moorl
and and woods around Whinstone Ridge had been divided into individual search areas, each allocated to a leader with his or her team. Gathering them into a group in front of the chapel and addressing them by standing on an old chair, Inspector Carter first introduced himself and then explained their role, providing a brief description of the man they were seeking – a monk in his sixties, grey haired and about six feet tall. He was thought to be dressed in a monk’s black habit with a cowl.

  ‘His name is Father John and he should not be hard to find. If you do find him, bring him here if he is capable of walking or call one of our doctors who will go to him. We can arrange a stretcher party if necessary. I shall remain here where I have the mobile phone numbers of all search leaders and doctors. I’m also in radio contact with Gold Command and all the local emergency services who are aware of this search and standing by. Representatives of the media are also here. If you find Father John, please bring him to this chapel; it would be helpful for him and everyone involved. If you see him running off to hide or find any evidence of his presence, don’t keep the details to yourselves. Tell me and I will divert others to help you. This is our centre of operations where you’ll find me. I will be here most of the time if you need to speak to me. There are some ancient pews inside and a primitive outside toilet at the rear. Don’t be afraid to take a break and rest if you need to – we don’t want more casualties!’

  They were reminded that Father John had been missing since Saturday but whether he had sheltered in the old chapel was not known. It did raise the question of whether he could have survived without cover on these heights on a chill autumn night. If he was still alive, he could be in a very poor state, perhaps due to exposure and a lack of food. He might be suffering from hypothermia, complete fatigue or something worse. Carter followed with advice about the terrain they were to search and general advice for any newcomers, reminding them that a helicopter would also be searching and in radio contact. The volunteers began to filter away in a very orderly manner, moving slowly in a long line, side by side, heading from west to east as, with sticks, they examined every patch of heather, whin, undergrowth and eventually the coniferous woodland.