she spat. “What are friends for? Not for taking your husband, that’s for sure! As much as I hated him then, it hurt me a lot when I found out he had been murdered.”
The guilt again invaded Graham. “As far as you know, did the Jesuit visit him at his home, or somewhere?”
“Yes. I understand from Father McGiven that he spoke to Thomas at the church.”
“Did Father McGiven tell you what the conversation was about?”
Elizabeth was becoming angry now. She didn’t want all these questions. She’d had enough. “Certainly not! He is a priest you know! Confidentiality and all that?”
There was nothing to be learned here, Graham decided, so he offered his apologies, thanking Mrs. Singleton for giving them her time, and left. She was glad to be rid of them and began to dust and polish the furniture furiously, allowing the anger to dissipate with the effort. It would take time.
“Father McGiven next,” said Graham as they left the Singleton home.
“Well, we didn’t learn anything there, did we?” replied Clive, “perhaps we’ll have better luck with the priest.”
Clive again took the wheel and moved in the direction of St. Mary’s. “Do you think we will learn anything that we don’t already know, Graham?”
A shrug of the DI’s shoulders indicated a semblance of uncertainty. “What I’m looking for,” he said, slowly, deep in thought, “is something to confirm my theories; some comment that may tie the Jesuit into the murders. Every little helps, Clive. Like with Mrs. Singleton. She proved that the man has a powerful effect on people — I’ve actually experienced it myself. He somehow causes confusion in the brain; his presence tends to take over. It’s difficult to explain but, as you will find out whenever you meet him, you feel like throwing yourself at his feet and begging forgiveness for everything that you have ever done wrong. Weird.”
Clive cast a sidelong glance at his boss, wondering if the case was tipping him over the edge. “Mmm,” was his only comment.
“Mrs. Singleton,” continued Graham, “has clearly been affected by him. You’d have thought my questions about the Jesuit were sacrilegious. And, one other thing, she told us that he had spoken to her ex-husband before his death.”
“What difference does that make?” ventured Clive.
“It’s the first time he has been linked to a victim
Arriving unannounced at the vestry of St. Mary’s, the detectives were relieved to find Father McGiven in a welcoming mood. “Come in. Come in,” he urged. “Let me get you a cup of tea and something to eat.”
The offer was eagerly accepted as the men sat at the priest’s invitation, while he called from the door leading into the church to Mrs. Collins, his general help: “Three teas and some hot, buttered toasted teacakes, if you will, please.” Smiling at her he closed the door and returned to his guests. “So very nice to see you again, Detective Inspector. I expect you are here about the Jesuit, are you?”
Graham confirmed the nature of his visit and introduced Clive to the priest. “I’m sorry to trouble you again, Father,” he said. “I’m trying to find some order in these awful killings and I must explore every avenue.”
“Quite. If I can be of any assistance at all?”
The ensuing conversation went smoothly, the questions from the detectives being put in a conversational way, almost as though in praise of the mysterious Brother and showing keen interest in the stories he’d told to Father McGiven in their earlier meetings. The priest was enthusiastic in his recounting; it was clear that the Jesuit was some kind of a hero to him and, to Graham, demonstrated the effect transmitted by the holy man.
Without arousing their host’s suspicion in any way, it was discovered that the first time he had met the Jesuit was after the death of Debbie. He was quite certain of this, the meeting having been occasioned as a result of the murder and the desire to comfort the bereaved. Graham had hoped that a link could have been made prior to the death but it was no great setback. However, Father McGiven confirmed that Brother Saviour had spoken to Thomas Singleton before his untimely end and that he had seen Thomas to his car afterwards.
“Did they talk again after the meeting here, Father?” queried Clive.
“Only at the car. They chatted for a few minutes and then Mr. Singleton left.”
“How did Mr. Singleton appear to you as he left? Did he seem agitated, or worried at all?”
“Oh, no. Not at all. Quite the opposite I would say. Smiling — relieved even.”
Clive persisted. “Did the Jesuit tell you what they had chatted about, Father?”
“No. I never asked and he didn’t say. Why, is it important?”
Clive smiled. “Just trying to build the picture, Father. It’s possible Mr. Singleton may have given some clue as to whom he was intending to meet,” he continued.
The priest nodded. “Ah, I see. Yes, I suppose that could have been of some importance.”
Graham then spoke. “There was another killing quite nearby, Father.”
“Yes, a young teacher. Terrible business. This is a reasonably quiet area, yet we have had this spate of suspicious deaths and all in the course of a few weeks. I fail to understand it.” He shook his head in disbelief.
“Was he one of your parishioners, Father?”
“Yes, he was a regular at Mass and at confession. I understand he was an excellent teacher, also.” He looked at Graham quizzically. “Is his murder linked, Detective Inspector?” he asked in surprise.
“There are still vital pieces of evidence as yet missing but, yes, I do believe that all the recent killings are the work of one person.”
The priest sank back into his chair. “Oh,” he said quietly. “And you think Brother Saviour may have obtained some knowledge, somewhere along the line, of whom the killer might be?”
Graham shrugged his shoulders. “Yes, Father, that’s what I’m hoping. He has met people directly involved with the victims — apart from Maddigan, that is — and he has a way of opening people up. They will probably tell him things they wouldn’t normally disclose. He could be of great value to us.”
Father McGiven agreed — the Jesuit had an overpowering persona. Answering the unasked question he said: “Mr. Maddigan lived alone. I believe his family live in Cornwall and his body was transferred there for burial.”
“Do you know where Brother Saviour is at present, Father?” ventured Graham.
“No, I haven’t heard from him recently. Is he not in his motor home?”
“Probably, but he has moved from the district and we don’t know where he has gone to. Did he give you any idea of his next destination?”
Father McGiven could only tell them that Brother Saviour would be moving around the country at will, wherever the urge took him. He had mentioned no place in particular.
The detectives finally left, thanking Father McGiven for his time and asking him to contact the Met if the Jesuit got in touch. Again, a link had been established with one of the murders and the presence of Brother Saviour. At this stage it was tenuous, no evidence of any contact between the Jesuit and the victim but the fact that Saviour had visited the parish church of Lawrence Maddigan did, to some degree, tie him in. Also, it was the first the detectives knew that Maddigan had any connection with the Church. It was by now past lunchtime so the pair stopped at a small cafe as they left Penn to grab a bite to eat.
Almost an hour later, their hunger satisfied, the detectives were on the way to Twyford in the Thames Valley, where they intended to meet up with Father Conway Rafferty, the parish priest at the church of St.Thomas More. It was hoped the priest would be able to throw some light on any connection between the ill-fated Mary Stewart and the Jesuit.
As they arrived at the church, they saw the priest at the church entrance speaking to a few worshippers as they left following an early afternoon Mass. Allowing the people to go on their way, they approached Father Rafferty. He stood in the doorway ready to receive them, wondering who the strangers were.
On introduction, the detectives were impressed by the strength of character exuded by the man. Large- framed, he offered a crisp, warm handshake, the rather rough countenance breaking into a pleasant and welcoming smile. He took the two through to the vestry where he shouted to the ever-present Mrs. Collingwood to bring a tray of tea and buns. She called back that she would be with them in a couple of minutes.
“Well, gentlemen. What can I do for you?” asked Father Rafferty.
“We are investigating the incidence of several murders in the general area,” opened Graham. “Our inquiries have shown that they are all linked to the same killer and we need to get as much background information as
