Confession at Maddleskirk Abbey (19 page)

‘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.’

‘S
UE, IT’S
N
APIER
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?’

‘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.’

‘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.’