Confession at Maddleskirk Abbey (20 page)

‘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.’

N
APIER, 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, there’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.’

S
UE PERSUADED
F
ATHER
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 moorland 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.

The broad guidelines did not affect the helicopter – it would cover the immense open space with ease, hopefully guiding searchers towards their target if he was spotted. Press photographers and TV cameras had arrived and were in action, whilst among them were two police photographers, indistinguishable from their media counterparts. Their presence was for a totally different purpose – after all, this was a trap for a cold-blooded killer even though most of the searchers – and many police officers – were unaware of that.

As the large group of volunteers spread out, Mr and Mrs Morton remained at the back of the crowd but then approached Inspector Carter. So this grey-haired man and blonde-dyed woman in smart flying suits were the infamous Michael and Geraldine Goddard? They did not look at all like drug dealers, murderers or villains – even now, were being regarded as benefactors to the community! Inspector Carter decided to treat them with feigned respect as, in his guise as Joe Morton, the man took the lead.

‘You’re Inspector Carter, I heard you say. I’m Joe Morton, this is my wife, Rachel. Linneymoor Ceramics. You’re expecting us, I believe?’

‘We are, and it’s good of you to help us like this.’

‘No problem,’ responded the man with a faint Lancashire accent. ‘I heard your briefing so where do you want us?’

Inspector Carter handed him a copy of the map that had been issued to the other searchers. ‘You can see how the search parties are spreading out so I think a sweep of this particular part of the moorland, as far as we can see from here and beyond, needs to be searched from the air. I think that will be a good place to start.’

‘What’s the procedure if we spot him? We might not be able to land nearby.’

‘You should contact me on this mobile number,’ advised the inspector, handing him a card. ‘We will direct a ground team to the scene to assess the situation and probably help the monk to your machine to be brought to shelter.’

‘So if it’s possible for us to land near him, and if I see that he needs urgent hospital treatment, can I take him directly to hospital? That would make sense. Speed is of the essence …’

‘That’s a welcome offer, Mr Morton, but let’s deal with that if and when it occurs,’ said Inspector Carter as several photographers, including those from the police, took photographs. ‘Our immediate priority is to find him, then assess his physical condition.’

‘Point taken. So where was the last sighting?’

‘It was rather vague, a call from a hiker who didn’t want to be identified – dodging off work with a woman who wasn’t his wife! He’d seen our target near this old chapel but failed to give more precise information.’

‘Obviously he provided some useful information otherwise we’d not be here?’

‘From what he told us, this is our starting point, and now centre of operations. Apparently he wandered aimlessly close to the woodland but that was some time ago. He has been missing since Saturday but if he’s still able to walk, he could be anywhere. He might be in that wood, lying hidden perhaps. Ill or injured.’

‘So it’s anyone’s guess where he might be?’

‘If he’s hiding, he might be in that woodland. Have you any experience at searching woodland?’

‘Not a lot, I must admit. It’s not the easiest of jobs when airborne but not impossible – often there are open patches, tracks running through and so on. We can only do our best. What do you think, Rachel?’

‘We came here to do a job, Joe. We know what’s required. We should get started right away – don’t forget a life is at stake.’

‘Does that fit your plans, Inspector?’

‘It’s fine, there’s no time to lose.’

‘I’ll fly over this open section of moorland and then towards those woods,’ announced Rachel. ‘I can cope with the wooded areas and we can always guide searchers on the ground if we spot him …’

‘Right, sounds fine to me,’ said Inspector Carter.

‘Rachel’s the pilot and I’m the observer today, but before I go, I need the loo,’ announced Joe. ‘You said there’s one behind the chapel. – I can’t cope with this suit! How about you, love?’

‘I’m fine,’ said Rachel. ‘See you back at Crusoe.’

‘Crusoe?’ queried the inspector.

‘After Robinson, our machine’s a Robinson R44. Four seater,
that is. Like him, I suppose you could say we’re looking for footprints in the sand today.’

‘I need the toilet,’ whispered Father John to Sue, both dressed in their hooded outfits with POLICE SEARCH emblazoned their backs. They had followed and mingled with the crowd for only a short time but no one had talked to them.

‘It’s urgent,’ John pressed her. ‘It’s my prostate cancer. When you’ve got to go, you’ve got to go. It’s a bit open here, no trees …’

‘I’m not supposed to let you out of my sight like this but the inspector said there’s a loo behind the chapel. Don’t be long. I’ll wait here. We can catch up with the others.’

Sue watched as the search party left her behind. It was now divided into several groups, each with a leader, and they were making their first tentative steps in what already had all the appearances of a major hunt. She waited as Father John disappeared behind the bulk of the old chapel. At that point, she lost sight of him.

As Father John hurried about his urgent business, he saw a man in a flying suit heading in the opposite direction to the other searchers as he also hurried towards the stone toilet at the rear of the chapel. It was the man from Linneymoor Ceramics with his smart helicopter, here to help in the search. In this situation, Father John wondered how the man would cope with his flying suit. He might find out because it was a sure bet they’d arrive together – so would there be more than one stall in there? He sincerely hoped so.

They arrived together from opposite directions and John, being a polite monk, stood back to allow the other first entry. But the man stopped and at that instant John recognized him despite the passage of time. He said nothing, doing his best to conceal his surprise and horror at the situation in which he now found himself. Alone with Michael Goddard. …

And Goddard recognized him.

‘I’ve been looking for you, John. All these years. You’re
coming with me, very peacefully and very quietly, for a ride in my smart new helicopter …’

‘No, no, I can’t …’

‘This says you can and you will.’ Goddard pulled a tiny handgun from a pocket in his flying suit. ‘Nobody is going to see us, nobody is going to see you. I need you alive for a little longer then you will disappear for ever. These people will never find you. But first we have a little job to do, both of us … After you …’ And he stood in the narrow doorway to block any attempted escape by Father John.