DCI Warren Jones

Chapter 18

Warren had to wait until Bethany Rice’s father was free, before she was able to attend the station for an interview. A few weeks shy of her eighteenth birthday, Bethany Rice was a sixth-form student who worked at the abbey on weekends. Strictly speaking, she didn’t need an appropriate adult present, since she wasn’t under arrest and was seventeen, but Warren had learnt to choose his battles wisely, and he needed her cooperation.

Apparently her father had been present when she was originally interviewed about Father Nolan’s death. He had reportedly been unhappy about her having her fingerprints taken for exclusionary purposes, and had insisted on going over her witness statement before she signed it, whilst helpfully explaining the rules regarding the retention of biological samples to the twenty-year veteran constable conducting the interview. The man had clearly been on Wikipedia before bringing his daughter in.

‘She’s doing really well, at school,’ her father had told Warren as they’d walked down to the interview suite, clearly flattered on his daughter’s behalf that she was being interviewed by a DCI. For his part, Warren was already wishing he’d passed her off to somebody else, but he had been free and wanted her interviewed sooner rather than later.

By the time they reached the interview suite, Warren was already fully up-to-speed about the medical school interviews that Rice had recently been for, and the work experience at Addenbrooke’s hospital that she’d completed, even though her school hadn’t been as supportive as they could have been and they’d been forced to engage a tutor to help compensate for the poor teaching. Throughout this, Rice had said nothing, mostly looking at her shoes.

Things did not improve when Warren started the interview. Mr Rice had clearly assumed that his daughter had been called in as a vital witness in the death of Father Nolan. It then transpired that Rice hadn’t told her father about the intruder in the abbey grounds.

‘If I’d had any idea that the site was so unsecure, I never would have let my daughter work there.’

This last comment seemed to be aimed squarely at Warren, although quite what the man thought he could do about it was unclear. It also explained why Rice had chosen not to share the incident with her father.

‘I’d just finished my shift in the gift shop and I was walking back to the staff car park,’ said Rice, making eye contact for the first time.

‘We bought her a car after she passed her test first time,’ interjected Mr Rice. ‘Much safer than letting her catch that bus, especially when it’s dark.’

‘Carry on, Bethany,’ said Warren, pointedly ignoring the man’s interruption.

‘I saw somebody climbing over the wall along from the main entrance, in front of the graveyard. He sort of flopped over and hit the ground with a really loud thump, so I went over to see if he was OK.’

Next to her, her father’s eyes bulged.

‘You went over?’

‘Yes, I thought he might have hurt himself.’ Her tone was defiant.

‘But he could have had a knife or anything,’ spluttered her father.

‘Well, he didn’t. I asked him what he was doing and when he didn’t answer, I told him I was going to call security, so he’d better leave now.’

‘What did he say?’

‘He called me an interfering bitch and told me to fuck off.’

Whether her father’s shock was at the words that had been aimed at his daughter, or the matter-of-fact way that she repeated them wasn’t clear. Regardless, Warren had to ask him to let his daughter continue her story uninterrupted.

‘I called Rodney and told him what was happening. It took a couple of minutes for him to get there, so I kept the man talking. He was obviously drunk or on drugs, but I think he was also a bit confused and disturbed.’

Mr Rice looked horrified. Warren was impressed at her peace of mind. She’d do well in a busy A&E department on a Friday night.

‘Anyway, I managed to get him to tell me his name and asked him why he was here.’

‘What did he say?’

‘He was a bit unclear, but he kept on saying he wanted to speak to the priests and ask them why they did it.’

‘Why they did what?’

‘I don’t know. Rodney turned up and he got really agitated. He started shouting, “you all knew about it” and “why didn’t you do anything?”’

‘Then what happened?’

‘Rodney started trying to calm him down, asking him why he was here, but he got really abusive, shouting and calling names. Rodney unlocked the front gate and told him that the police were on the way, so he should leave.

‘The man started to walk up the path towards the house, so Rodney stood in his way. There was a load of fence posts by the gate, and Rodney picked one up and he told the man to “fuck off, or he’d get some”. That was when Gabriel, that’s Deacon Baines, arrived.’

There had been nothing in either the arrest report or Baines’ statement about Shaw brandishing a weapon.

‘What happened when Deacon Baines arrived?’

‘He also tried to cool things down, but the man kept on saying “you’re one of them”. He picked up a branch and I thought Rodney was going to attack him. Then the police arrived, which seemed to quieten things down a bit. Both Rodney and the man threw their weapons away when the police came in the main gate.’

‘What happened when the police came?’

‘They tried to reason with him, but it was obvious he was going to end up in the back of the police van.’

‘Did he say anything else?’

‘Mostly swearing, but when he was being arrested, he did stop and shout specifically at Gabriel and told him to “seek forgiveness for his sins”, which seemed a bit weird.’

‘Do you have any idea why he shouted that?’

‘I don’t know. He was clearly a bit mad and off his face on drugs and booze.’

‘What did Deacon Baines and Mr Shaw say after the police took the intruder away?

‘Not a lot. Gabriel asked if I was OK, and Rodney offered to give me a lift home if I didn’t have my own car. I said “no thanks” because my car was in the staff car park. When I left, Gabriel was telling Rodney how they had to get the wall fixed to stop the nutters getting in and that next time they might not be so lucky.’

‘Have there been other incidents like this?’

Rice glanced at her father, who still looked annoyed that he hadn’t been told about this before. According to the police report, Bethany Rice had been little more than a passive spectator, her name taken as a witness, but never contacted again. But it seemed that they’d underestimated her importance in the drama. Judging from what he’d seen of her father, he got the feeling that a lot of people underestimated Bethany Rice.

‘I don’t know if they’ve had to call the police before, but I heard that somebody was made to leave the abbey grounds a few months ago when he was caught up by the house.’

None of the reports filed previously about trespassers had mentioned anyone getting caught near the house. Was it the same person, or someone else? And why hadn’t Baines mentioned it? Despite the man’s apparent openness, Warren was starting to suspect that he would not offer any information unless asked directly.

After determining that Rice had nothing else to offer, Warren thanked them both for their time. Mr Rice got up quickly, leaving the interview suite. His daughter lingered. It was clear that she had more to say, and would rather her father didn’t hear it.

It wasn’t what he expected.

‘Are you Mrs Jones’ husband?’

Damn. He’d had no idea that she was one of Susan’s pupils. He thought for a second, but couldn’t think of any obvious conflict of interest.

‘Yes. I assume she teaches you biology?’

‘Yes.’ She glanced over at the door and lowered her voice. ‘Ignore what Dad said, Miss is a really good teacher. Even with a tutor, I’m just not, you know—’

‘Come on Beth, I need to get back in time for a conference call to New York,’ her father called from the corridor outside.

‘That’s very kind of you to say.’ Warren could see no harm in passing on that little bit of praise to his wife; he knew she’d be touched.

Rice glanced over her shoulder and lowered her voice even more.

‘I’ll be eighteen soon. Do the police offer work experience?’

* * *

Purbury Hostel was on the far side of town to the Phoenix Centre. Ruskin decided to park around the corner and walk. The car was out of his direct sight, but hopefully nobody would realise it belonged to him and add to the petty vandalism.

‘How can I help you officer?’ asked the apparently teenaged security guard in the tiny security cubicle in the lobby of the apartment block. He looked excited; no doubt a visit from the police would be the highlight of his shift.

‘Am I wearing a badge or something?’ asked Ruskin.

The man shrugged.

Ruskin pushed a copy of Furber’s photo under the glass partition.

‘Oh yeah, I know him, Lucas. He was here for a few months before Christmas. Managed to get himself kicked out in January.’ He lowered his voice conspiratorially. ‘Between you and me he probably should have been given the boot before then, but I wasn’t going to kick a bloke out before Christmas.’

‘Why was he asked to leave?’

‘The usual, booze and drugs. They’re not supposed to take either in their rooms. Strictly speaking, they shouldn’t even smoke in there, but we gave up that fight long ago. I smelt weed a couple of times and told him to knock it on the head, just friendly like, but he wouldn’t listen. I couldn’t turn a blind eye though when one of the cleaners found a bong in his room.

‘So you told him to leave?’

‘Yeah, no choice really. There’s a waiting list for a room.’

‘Any idea where he went?’

‘No, I don’t usually deal with that side of things, I’m just security, but the manager, Sunil, reckons Lucas got the hump, grabbed his bag and disappeared before we could try and arrange for a place in one of the emergency shelters – not that there are any places these days, but you never know …’

‘So he’s homeless? Sleeping rough?’

‘Probably. You could try one of the homeless shelters, or one of the street teams. Have you tried the Phoenix Centre?’

Ruskin confirmed that he had.

‘Not a lot else, I can suggest, sorry.’

Chapter 19

‘Results are back from traffic about Rodney Shaw’s alibi on the night of the fire.’ Mags Richardson was excited. Warren and Sutton hurried over to her desk.

‘They picked up his licence plate on numerous ANPR cameras, as well as several CCTV cameras that evening.’

On one of her monitors a detailed street map of Middlesbury was marked with the location of the abbey and Shaw’s flat. Blue dots showed the location of junctions with working cameras.

‘This is his journey to the abbey after he was called on his mobile phone.’ A red dotted line appeared on the map, joining up several blue dots, each of which had a time stamp next to it.

‘Well, despite what he claimed when he was interviewed, he clearly wasn’t home in front of the news when his phone went off,’ said Sutton immediately.

Sure enough, the red dotted line started in the south of the town, with the first sighting of the car on an ANPR camera three and a half miles south east of his flat, eight minutes after he received the call about the fire.

Warren squinted at the map. ‘I can’t see any way that he could have got to that part of town from his house without going past at least one camera. What time did his car arrive there?’

‘He drove there immediately after work.’ Richardson clicked the mouse and an irregularly shaped area of the map was shaded in grey. ‘All we can say, location-wise, is that his car stayed somewhere within this area for almost the next five hours, from 5.19 p.m. until seven minutes after he was phoned at five past ten.’

‘It’s a pretty large area,’ said Sutton. ‘We’ll need to narrow it down. Mobile phone records?’

‘He’s clearly lied about his whereabouts that night, I’d say that is enough justification for a warrant,’ said Warren.

‘How far is it from the abbey?’ asked Ruskin, who’d just arrived back in the office.

‘The one-way system increases the journey length, but assuming quiet traffic that time of night, then by car it would take between thirteen and eighteen minutes at normal speed, depending on where he started from within this area. But we know that he didn’t use his own car, as it wasn’t spotted on cameras again until after he was called back because of the fire,’ said Richardson.

‘See if any of the other cars that were in that area are related to Shaw,’ instructed Warren. ‘He could have borrowed a friend’s car. Check if his wife has her own car.’

‘I’ll also get onto the bus companies and cab firms and see if they picked up Shaw,’ said Richardson.

‘That’s if he used public transport,’ cautioned Richardson. ‘It’s only between 1.2 and 1.6 miles as the crow flies and Shaw’s a pretty fit man. He would have been able to easily cover that distance between the fire being set and his car re-appearing on the cameras.’

‘But why did he park his car there?’ asked Ruskin.

‘Presumably he didn’t want to park too near the abbey in case he was spotted, and his flat was too far to walk from,’ said Richardson.

‘Probably, but why here specifically? And what was he doing in the almost five hours between him driving there and going to the abbey?’ asked Sutton.

‘Location data from his mobile phone should help narrow down his exact position. In the meantime, get Rachel to compile a list of local businesses within that area. Knowing his proclivities, he could have spent some time in a local bookie or had some Dutch courage in the pub.’

Thursday 26th February

Chapter 20

It had been over five days since Father Nolan had been set on fire. Unusually, the murder was still being reported as a suicide, with limited information released to the public. The decision to do so had been justified on the grounds that the killer probably assumed that they had got away with it, and would therefore not be on their guard. Hopefully, this would increase the likelihood that they would slip up. How much longer the subterfuge would be allowed to continue was a decision well above Warren’s paygrade.

However, although Warren and Grayson ran a tight ship at Middlesbury, the number of seconded officers involved was rising rapidly, increasing the risk of a leak that the death was suspicious. And if the investigators themselves didn’t let something slip, how long would it be before members of staff and residents at the abbey started to question the ongoing presence of so many police and forensics officers?

In those five days, a lot had been accomplished, but after the first flurry of activity, the team was starting to get into a routine. It would be unfair to say that they were in a slump, but Warren knew that they could end up that way if he wasn’t careful. Fortunately, this morning’s briefing had two new, exciting leads.

Warren passed over to Moray Ruskin.

‘This is Lucas Furber, a new potential suspect. On January the ninth he gained entry to the abbey grounds and threatened both Deacon Baines and Rodney Shaw. He was clearly intoxicated and may have been suffering from mental health problems.

‘Significantly, he seems to have something against religion, specifically Christianity, although we have no evidence either way about his views on other religions. Witnesses reported that he was shouting about them all being “hypocrites”. It is also claimed that he accused them of “knowing about it” and “doing nothing” and telling them to “seek forgiveness”. We don’t know as yet what he was referring to.’

‘Are we sure it’s specific to religion and not just authority generally, or the world at large?’ asked Hutchinson.

‘Priests wearing dog collars seem to be a specific trigger for him. Apparently, the confrontation in the abbey grounds escalated significantly when Baines arrived on the scene – the arresting officers have confirmed that his dog collar was visible. A minister at the Middlesbury Outreach Centre told me that Furber seemed uncomfortable when he wore his collar, and that he too had been abused by Furber when he was under the influence. Again, he said that he would “burn in hell.”’

‘We should look into his past and see if there are any links between him and some of these cases of abuse that are becoming public knowledge,’ said Sutton.

Was it Warren’s imagination, or did he look satisfied that his stated distrust of the church might actually be justified?

Warren gave himself a mental shake, ashamed at even thinking such a thing.

‘Well, he certainly sounds like someone we should be interviewing,’ said Richardson. ‘Any idea where he is?’

‘Unfortunately, no,’ replied Ruskin. ‘The last reported sighting was early January, when he was kicked out of his accommodation. Assuming he’s still in Middlesbury, he’s either sleeping rough or using one of the shelters. I’ve organised a team of community support officers and homeless outreach volunteers to try and track him down.’

‘Excellent work, Moray,’ said Warren. ‘Next up, the groundsman Rodney Shaw. He was already a person of interest given his previous convictions and unconfirmed reports that he was heard arguing with Father Nolan. That wasn’t much more than gossip, however a witness in a bookmaker frequented by both men reported an uncomfortable meeting between the two of them; CCTV footage from the bookie is being processed to confirm this. It’s possible that Shaw was ashamed to be seen there and might have tried to silence Father Nolan.’

Warren looked around the room.

‘So far it’s pretty tenuous, but last night Mags found that he was lying about his whereabouts on the night of the fire. It’s far too soon to pull him in for questioning yet, we don’t want to tip him off, but I want to know what he was doing that night and why he lied about it.’

‘Could he and Furber have been working together?’ asked Pymm.

‘Interesting idea, look into any links between the two men,’ said Warren

‘Shaw has historic drug convictions, perhaps they know each other that way?’ suggested Pymm.

‘Maybe,’ conceded Warren, ‘although witnesses to the confrontation in the abbey grounds gave no indication that they knew each other then. In fact, it seemed to be quite a violent encounter. However, that was nearly two months ago; much can change in that time.’

Chapter 21

‘We’ve been trying to figure out what Rodney Shaw might have been doing during the unaccounted for period between him leaving work on the evening of the fire and his car re-appearing on the ANPR cameras eight minutes after he received the call about the fire and headed back to the abbey.’

Mags Richardson had moved her laptop next to Rachel Pymm’s workstation and there was a substantial pile of printouts on the desk between them.

‘I’m promised the records from his mobile phone any minute,’ interjected Pymm.

‘In the meantime,’ continued Richardson, ‘we’ve looked at the area within that ANPR dead zone, and for a few streets either side of it. It’s not great news, sir. Even in a small town like Middlesbury, there are a lot of homes and businesses in that vicinity that he could have visited. There are twelve public houses, two restaurants, nine fast-food takeaways and two bookmakers. He could even have been getting his car serviced or picking up some dry cleaning. I imagine if he did visit “Nelly’s Nails” it wasn’t for a manicure.’

‘Start canvassing the area if the phone data doesn’t give us any more clues,’ ordered Warren. ‘He lied about his whereabouts in the initial interview, I presume that there was a reason for that, but it doesn’t mean he was doing anything we’re bothered about. Let’s see if anyone can provide an alibi for some of that time so we can discount him.

‘Are there any interesting residents in the area that he could have been meeting?’

‘Define interesting,’ said Pymm, before answering her own question. ‘Thirty-eight addresses within that zone have occupants with at least one recordable offence on the PNC. That’s a bit above the average for an area of that size in Middlesbury, but it’s hardly a den of criminality.

‘The data has its limits, though, as it records addresses at the time of the offence. If we decide to go to town on this, we’ll need to cross-reference the latest electoral roll data with the PNC, and perhaps even benefits and tax records.’

‘File the appropriate requests for that information, but hold off on the analysis unless we get nowhere with the phone records. What type of offences are we talking about?’

‘Mostly low-level, or historic, but two properties have received multiple call-outs for domestic violence, another person served a six-month term for assault occasioning actual bodily harm and another resident has been convicted twice for possession of class B drugs with intent to supply, the last offence being eighteen months ago.’

‘I presume the domestic violence had no link to Mr Shaw?’

‘As far as I can tell. I’ve had a look at the reports filed and there’s no mention of a third party involved.’

‘Put them on the bottom of the list then. What about the dealer? Could Shaw be using again?’

‘Possible, although if she is his supplier, she’s moved up in the world. Both previous convictions were for possessing enough cannabis for several joints. The people she was supplying to were her boyfriend and a couple of friends at university, there was no suggestion that she was earning any money from it, and there’s nothing recent.’

‘Put her to one side and see if she comes back into the picture when we get his mobile phone records. What about the assault?’

‘A drunken brawl in a bar in Brighton back in 2007; the defendant broke the victim’s jaw and then took a few swings at the bouncers and passers-by, before trying to head butt the arresting officer. Nothing recent or before then.’

‘Sounds unlikely, unless Shaw is a friend. What else have you got?’

‘I looked at the ANPR records for the cameras surrounding the area for the previous forty-eight hours. Shaw’s car doesn’t appear during the preceding two days. I’ve requested records going back further to see if he made the trip regularly. In terms of the cars that left or entered the area within that time, no car both exits and re-enters.’

‘So it’s unlikely that he borrowed someone else’s car to go to the abbey without being seen?’

‘Not unless he arranged to leave it somewhere else,’ said Pymm.

‘What about other cars exiting or entering – could they have dropped him off, or picked him up from near the abbey?’

‘Thirty-two cars exited the area within the unaccounted time period. Since he would probably have needed to have arrived at the abbey at least an hour before the fire was set to drug Father Nolan and get him down to the chapel, and assuming he had no accomplice, then we can immediately trim that to twelve cars that would have given enough time to do what he needed to. Ten of those cars travelled away from the abbey; it would make no sense for him to have got in those cars, unless he was performing some sort of elaborate doubling back exercise to build his alibi.’

‘Not impossible,’ commented Warren. ‘But put them to one side. Tell me about the two cars that headed towards the abbey.’

‘One could have passed within a half mile of the abbey, the other just over a mile. The cars are registered to residents within that area.’

‘Put them on the list, they could have given Shaw a lift. We’ll pull them in for questioning if necessary. What about returning cars?’

‘Again, assuming that he needed to leave after we believe the fire was started, and unless he had an accomplice, four cars entered the area in the time before his car exited. None of them came from the direction of the abbey, although it looks as though a minicab may have picked up a fare within a mile of the abbey grounds. I’ve put in a request for their records.’