Confession at Maddleskirk Abbey (3 page)

BOOK: Confession at Maddleskirk Abbey
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If it had, it could have disappeared by now and there was no way of determining whether this man had been subjected to it. Nick then raised one of the man’s eyelids – the eye was dead and dull with no sign of life. There was no pulse either, and no heartbeat. From where Nick was operating he could not see any sign of blood but there was ample evidence that they now had a corpse – with no indication of how or when he had arrived, who he was or what had caused his death. The absence of the smell of death and the lack of visible signs of decomposition suggested the body had arrived fairly recently, probably within the last day or two.

‘Where did you see the blood? I haven’t found any,’ Nick asked Barnaby.

‘Below his head. You need to go over there, Mr Rhea: you can see better from that bump in the ground. Look under his head … I thought the ground looked soaked in blood under his head … or it might have been something else. You can never tell … animal blood, mebbe. Coloured leaves.’

Nick went to the place he indicated, took a close look without moving the body and then agreed with him.

‘Yes, from here it looks like blood, Barnaby. From the back of his head. Maybe a head injury when he fell? Do you think he might have fallen off that high cliff while bird watching?’

‘He could have done that, Mr Rhea, but he has no binoculars or camera. Nothing at all by the look of things. He could have taken a nasty tumble off that cliff top but I never saw it happen, so I did not.’

‘Did you hear a shout? A commotion of any kind?’

‘Not a thing, Mr Rhea. All was quiet when I got here this morning, except those helicopters … going to the college. They scare the birds, so they do.’

‘What time would that be?’

‘Not too early, half eight or so. Nine o’clockish maybe.’

‘Right. So any sounds of gunshots? Shouting? Screaming? Cries for help? Indications of trouble of any kind? This morning or any other time?’

‘No, Mr Rhea, nothing but the sounds of birds in the trees. Singing as if it was springtime.’

‘Right. So in those moments just before you found him, did you notice anything that might have been out of the ordinary? Loud voices, other people in the wood, arguments, someone running away, a car or motorbike on the road below … anything at all that’s not usual? Not just today but recently.’

‘No, not a thing, Mr Rhea, it’s been as silent as the grave for weeks.’

‘And just to confirm things, we don’t know who he is or where he’s come from.’

‘To be sure we don’t, Mr Rhea. I don’t know him. I’ve never
seen him before, so I have not. It’s all very puzzling.’

Nick decided not to search the victim’s pockets and the nearby ground for anything that might lead to his identification – almost certainly he would have credit cards, cash, handkerchief and probably some means of identification but it was not the job of this small team or any of the monkstables.

That was the task of the incoming detectives, as Nick explained to Barnaby and Father Alban.

‘Well, whatever’s happened, it’s a suspicious death,’ Nick confirmed. ‘It needs to be investigated but not by us. We must call in CID. I’ll get Father Will to contact the control room at police headquarters to set things in motion. We need a doctor to certify death but not the cause of death, then we’ll have to bring in a forensic pathologist. Scenes of Crime will examine the scene before the body is removed.’

‘So there’s nothing we can do for him, is there?’ asked Father Alban.

‘Not to save his life, no. It’s too late for that. I’m not a doctor but I know a dead body when I see one.’

Father Alban made the sign of the cross and lowered his head to whisper some short prayers, so Barnaby and Nick lapsed into a respectful silence and stood very still with their heads bowed.

When he had finished, Father Alban asked, ‘You think he’s been attacked, Nick? That blood …’

‘At this stage, Father, it looks very likely. Perhaps a blow to the head but we can’t rule out an accident of some kind. Even if he fell off that cliff, he might have been pushed. The nature of his head wound should reveal something. What we need to do – the monkstables, that is – is to find out who he is and where he’s come from.’

‘Could he have been at The Grange?’ asked Father Alban. ‘On one of the residential retreats? I’ve known some take long walks in the woods around here, and others have visited the former holy well up there among the trees, a sort of miniature
pilgrimage. It’s on modern maps and the footpath up to it is clearly in regular use.’

‘I’ll make sure enquiries are made at The Grange, Father. Thanks for that.’

‘So do we need an ambulance, Nick? Shall I call ours from the infirmary? Or would the air ambulance be better here?’

‘Neither! Ambulances are for saving life, not for carrying dead people around. Besides, there’s nowhere nearby for a helicopter to land. In any case he can’t be moved until the doctor and a forensic pathologist have examined him.’

‘That’s the sort of thing I keep forgetting!’

‘Not to worry. Once we hand responsibility to the county constabulary, they will see to all the necessary follow-up action. Because the scene must be examined as a possible crime scene, we mustn’t attempt to move the body or disturb anything.’

‘So we’ll not be needed here any more then?’

‘The monkstables will be expected to help with local enquiries but this is too serious for us to deal with. We should remain here to protect the scene until the CID arrive; they’ll want to talk to us first.’

‘You mean me as well, Mr Rhea?’ asked Barnaby.

‘You especially!’ said Nick.

‘I didn’t realize that finding a body involved so much, so I did not.’

Nick radioed Father Will in the cop shop and explained the situation, requesting a doctor and the county CID along with a forensic pathologist, the Scenes of Crime team, official photographer and a pair of uniform constables to take over the guarding of the scene for as long as necessary. That transferred the incident from the hands of the monkstables even though Nick, Father Alban and Barnaby remained to relate their stories to the incoming CID.

 

After what seemed a long time Monkstable Dale’s mobile produced a voice asking for directions and there was an audible
sense of relief that assistance was en route even though there was no urgency to save life. After a few minutes, several vehicles could be heard as they eased to a halt on the access road below the main body of woodland but it required a few more location directions to establish precisely where to find the body. Father Alban said he would go down to guide them to the scene.

‘You won’t need me now, Mr Rhea.’ Barnaby prepared to leave.

‘You’d better stay a while, Barnaby, CID will want to talk to you.’ Nick reminded him of the reasons. ‘If you leave, they’ll simply come to find you.’

‘What can I say to them, Mr Rhea?’ he asked with genuine concern.

‘Just tell them what you told me.’ Nick tried to reassure the little fellow, conscious of his fear of police officers. ‘You’ve nothing to be scared of, Barnaby. Because you found the body, you’re a very important witness.’

‘If you say so, Mr Rhea. They won’t think I did it, will they?’

‘Not if you stay here with me. But they might think that if you go away.’

‘Then I’ll stay.’

First to arrive was Detective Sergeant Jim Sullivan in whose local area of responsibility the body lay. Led by Father Alban, he was closely followed by the Scenes of Crime team, police photographers, a doctor and a forensic pathologist.

All had apparently assembled somewhere nearby to be sure all reached the correct place.

‘We meet again, Nick,’ said Sullivan. ‘I thought this was miles from murder and mayhem! First a dead man in the coffin in the crypt, now a man lying in a remote area of woodland. Show me the body and tell me what you know, then I’ll start the interviews whilst the experts do their stuff. So who is this chap? Any ideas, anyone?’

‘No idea,’ said Barnaby, and the others echoed his words.

‘He’s not a local then?’

‘I’ve never seen him around,’ said Nick.

‘I’ve never seen him around,’ echoed Barnaby.

And so began the formal examination of the corpse, with the doctor pronouncing him dead but not attempting to determine the cause. That was not his job. Then the forensic pathologist began his preliminary but detailed examination of both the body and the nearby woodland. Under his direction, the Scenes of Crime team began their search of the area they had already cordoned off with bright yellow tape, albeit with the body in situ. They would be looking for evidence among the undergrowth, even a weapon of some kind or something discarded by the killer or killers. The body remained exactly where it was until all the experts felt it and its clothing could be examined and searched, in an attempt to find documents or evidence of identity. A much more detailed scientific search of the body and its clothing would be made in the forensic laboratory but the detectives needed a starting point before the body was removed.

As the scientists and Scenes of Crime experts worked, Detective Sergeant Sullivan took Barnaby to one side.

‘So, Barnaby,’ he said, smiling, ‘what can you tell me about all this?’

‘Nothing, sir.’

‘There’s no need to call me sir. I’m a sergeant. Detective sergeant actually.’

‘Right, sir, I understand.’

‘Tell me how you found this man. Show me where you were when you first saw him, and then, once you had found him, tell me what you did next. Take your time, Barnaby, you’re not in any kind of bother. We just need to know all about it. As much as you can tell us. The more you can tell us, the easier it will be for us all.’

‘I see, sir, so I do,’ and he took a deep breath.

He then launched into a rambling account of how he had been bird watching in the woods that morning when he had noticed the man lying there, at first thinking he was asleep.
But after a time the man had not moved and so Barnaby had approached him to see if he was all right, then realized he was dead. He’d walked around to look at him from a distance, which was when he’d noticed the blood beneath his head.

‘Scenes of Crime will want to look at your boots, Barnaby, to take scrapings and perhaps imprints of their soles, just to see whether anyone else had been attending the body before you found him. We don’t suspect you, Barnaby, but we are trying to prove that you are innocent; we want to eliminate you from our enquiries.’

‘If you say so, sir.’

‘So before you found the body, did you see or hear anybody else in these woods this morning?’

‘No, sir, not a soul. Honest, nobody.’

‘And last night? Or yesterday?’

‘I wasn’t here then, sir, not yesterday. I was working over at Ploatby, helping with the harvest.’

‘Ah, which farm?’

‘Throstle Nest, sir. Mr Hendry’s place.’

‘So when was the previous time you were here?’

‘Oh, it would be some weeks ago, sir.’

‘Obviously before this man arrived?’

‘It must have been, I never saw him until this morning, lying where he is now.’

‘That agrees with what I think. I’d hazard a guess that he’s been here only for a day or two at the most. There’s nothing to indicate how he got here unless he fell or jumped off that cliff. Or was pushed. Thanks for your help, Barnaby. Will you be around if we want a chat?’

‘I’m here for another few days. I sleep in the old barns just down the road then I’ll be moving, I don’t know where. Helping with a harvest. Not far away.’

‘Will anyone know where to find you?’

‘Mr Greengrass might.’

‘Claude Jeremiah lives at Aidensfield,’ Nick told the detective.
‘I know him well enough.’

‘Thanks. Now when our officers have finished their initial examination, we’ll transfer the body into a mortuary for a more detailed scientific examination. It might take some time. You can all leave if you wish.’

‘Can I stay to see what goes on?’ Barnaby asked. ‘In all my born days, I’ve never seen this sort of thing, so I have not.’

‘Yes, of course,’ responded Sullivan, much to everyone’s surprise. ‘We might want more help from you as we go along, so stay as long as you want but don’t stray into that area inside our yellow tape.’

‘No, sir, I won’t, I promise I won’t. Thank you for letting me stay, I’ve never seen such a thing in my life, never.’

With Sullivan’s consent, everyone remained as a tight little bunch of observers as the meticulous work proceeded. It was a splendid display of police work that benefited the monkstables watching. Sadly, they could not all be there to witness the work at a crime scene but Father Alban said he would relate his experiences to his colleagues.

The examination and ground search of the area began, including the stately beech trees and the top of the small cliff that overlooked the death scene. The official photographer recorded everything including the removal of soil samples and the collection of leaf-mould for forensic analysis. In all, the examination continued for about two hours. It was fortunate that DS Sullivan provided a running commentary to explain what was going on, and why such a detailed examination was necessary.

‘Detective Chief Superintendent Napier is on his way,’ he told them after taking a call on his mobile. ‘He’ll want to examine both the scene and the body in situ. There’s little more we can do until he arrives and I’m sure he’ll call out the full murder team. The stretcher is on its way and once Mr Napier has viewed the body, it will be placed in a mortuary vehicle to be taken to Middlesbrough for a forensic post-mortem.’

There was a brief lapse of activity, then everything changed. Puffing through the undergrowth with his large size and famous big feet trampling shrubs and crushing plants, Detective Chief Superintendent Roderick (Nabber) Napier arrived with Detective Inspector Brian Lindsey at his side. They were quickly followed by the stretcher party consisting of four powerful young policemen, and after they had placed the stretcher close to the body, the pathologist, along with Napier and Lindsey, came for a closer look. No one said anything as the party toured the area around the corpse, sometimes checking the ground before standing on it and sometimes moving aside ferns and other undergrowth.

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