“Yes. I have no more to say. You may now return me to my cell.”
The audacity of the man was amazing. It was as though he was speaking to servants.
Before leaving, Ignatious unnecessarily thanked his solicitor, as he had been no more than a spectator, but the thanks were sincere none-the-less. Two police officers escorted him, in handcuffs, back to the cells below.
With the tapes now switched off, the conversation was about the cool unruffled attitude of the accused priest and the wicked murders he had perpetrated. Even McArdle joined in, confessing that he had never represented, if that could be the right description, anyone so willing to admit to the crimes and be so unconcerned about them.
Later in the day, Graham and Clive returned to New Scotland Yard and began the task of collating all the evidence and putting it in order. This included transcripts of the recent interview. Besides the confession, solid evidence was now in hand and it was just a matter of how soon the case could be put to the Prosecutor and the CPS — The Crown Prosecution Service — for it all to be heard in court. The lab reports and the DNA evidence were expected within the next few days and then the emotionally taxing case could be brought to a conclusion.
In the meantime, a call had been put to the management at Woburn Safari Park informing them of the possibility of a body being near to the perimeter and warning them that a team of police and forensic officers were on their way to the park as they spoke. It was late afternoon when the report came back that, despite an extensive search, a body had not been found, nor any clues that anything untoward had taken place.
Clive arranged to meet Ignatious in his cell and hurried off to question him further. The Jesuit’s explanation that he had hidden the body just inside the fencing, where some of the animals roamed, irked Clive as it was given in a manner of mock surprise at having forgotten to mention the fact. He asked the priest if he would be able to remember the spot if taken to the park.
“Oh, yes, Sergeant,” he replied. “I don’t forget things like that. I’m sorry if I have caused you any inconvenience, it just slipped my mind.”
Clive did not accept the apology as genuine; he knew the priest was playing games with them. “We’ll arrange to take you there first
thing in the morning,” he said, “and you’ll be handcuffed and under heavy guard,” he added.
Getting back to Graham’s office, the pair discussed the new situation and calculated if there would be any possible chance of escape. They decided that, if the prisoner was ‘cuffed and properly guarded, it would be safe. It was considered that the animals could well find a dead body by its smell but, if that were the case, then an inspection tomorrow would be soon enough as the beasts would be caged at that time. Even if eaten, the likelihood would be that clothes and personal possession would remain — and the ever-present hummingbird feathers.
They decided to call it a day and to get an early night for the excitement of the following morning. Just how exciting that would be, could never have been imagined. Graham went straight home to Bethany that evening.
CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR
For the Sun to shine in Britain for five weeks in succession, coupled with temperatures up in the 70’s and 80’s, was tantamount to tropical climates. Already the tabloids were awash with such ‘expert’ forecasts as the country turning into a dust-bowl, with water becoming scarce and disease and pestilence ravaging the population. Palm trees sprouting up all over with exotic plants springing forth were also envisaged. Such was the novelty of weather that may seem normal in many other countries.
The saving of water had been encouraged since the third week and now hosepipe and garden sprinkler bans were in force throughout the land. The populace was advised to bathe in no more than six inches of water and married couples and partners were urged to take a bath together, ignoring the possible risk of a population explosion!
At six o’clock on this particular Tuesday morning, it was muggy, the air not having been able to cool from the intensity of the preceding weeks.
Getting up early offered no problem for Ignatious, nor did the sultry weather. His time in the Amazons had conditioned him well. He walked elegantly between two police officers, shackled to the one on his left by handcuffs. The one to his right was walking so close as to have his left arm snug into the back of Ignatious’s right arm.
As they walked into the yard from the cells, the low Sun bathed the priest’s face in a red glow, reflecting golden from his burnished skin. He raised his face to the life-giving planet and breathed in as though absorbing the rays into his lungs. The doors at the back of the van that awaited the party in the rear courtyard were wide open, revealing a posse of four prison officers, dressed in black, heavy looking trousers, black socks and highly polished boots, each sporting a bullet — proof vest. The only concession to the climate was that each sported a spotlessly clean, white shirt with short sleeves. However, a black tie was knotted in place, causing the wearer to experience a slight sensation of strangulation and ensuring fingers to be frequently digging into the collar to allow circulation of whatever air there was. To add to the officer’s discomfort, each was obliged to wear a protective helmet.
With military precision, the prisoner was handed over to the officers in the van and the doors closed with an unnecessarily loud bang, followed by a couple of smacks against the doors to signal to the driver that the prisoner was aboard. Ignatious was just able to catch sight of Sampler and his assistant, Miller, in a car with its engine running, waiting to lead them to Woburn Safari Park, before the doors shut. He also took note that the woman, Dunning was with them.
The windows of the van were darkened so that no one could see into it but they allowed perfect vision looking out. Ignatious was now handcuffed by his right hand to a steel rail running along the interior and he was placed between two officers once more. Looking through the rear windows, he noticed another van but was unable to identify it. In fact, it contained six forensic officers, ready to do a detailed search of the area where the body was to be found. Behind that vehicle, there came a police car, which served as an escort.
The convoy began the journey, feeling confident that the roads would be relatively empty at that early hour and that was the reason for planning it. Even the very well used motorways that led to and from the Capital would make for easy travelling. And so it proved; they arrived at the Park within the hour, occupants of the M1 consisting mainly of heavy, slow-moving trucks that were passed with ease.
Driving through the ready-opened gates, the party came to a halt and Graham got out. The gates were then re-closed. The Park would not be opened to visitors until the police crews had left.
He was met by the park manager, a tall, slimly built man in his early fifties, a Mr. William Shankley-More. Streaks of silver-grey protruded from the otherwise impressively black hair and the brown, intelligent eyes oozed confidence. His handshake was dry and firm as he took Graham’s offered hand.
“Good morning, Detective Inspector,” he opened. “Sorry that you have to visit us on such a distasteful mission. Most people come here for pleasure.” He smiled warmly.
Graham took to Shankley-More immediately. “Yes. I’m sorry too. However, we hope to get this thing sorted very quickly. Our prisoner is an intelligent man who is not likely to waste our time.” He then asked: “Is it likely that a body could have been hidden inside there,” he pointed to the enclosure, “without the animals getting scent and going for it?”
“Generally, I would say no. I would expect any animal to pick up the scent of a human, especially a dead one. However,” Shankley-More stroked his chin, “it is also likely that our Rangers would have spotted the extra activity that would certainly have taken place. Predators, you know. Of course, we keep the animals within their cages or compounds from late evening until morning.”
“Well. Let’s get the thing done and dusted. How do you propose we go in, Mr. Shankley-More?”
As he spoke, the manager signalled to his Rangers to come over with their vehicles. “As you can see, the Rangers travel in a canvas covered Jeep. There is also the Range Rover that you will observe, also canvas-covered at the rear and I suggest that you, the prisoner and up to six others follow in that.” He squinted his eyes as he looked at the other van and the police car. “Did you intend to have the occupants of the other van enter the enclosure?”
“Yes.” Answered Graham, “They are the forensics team and they will want to sift the spot for clues.” That brought Graham to his main point of concern. “Will my team be safe, Mr. Shankley-More? I know you will have taken all precautions but, after all, these are wild animals.”
“Oh, you have no need to worry on that score,” he said hurriedly, eager to assure. “The dangerous ones; the
