The Janus Stone

Martin, refused to be separated from her teddy, that sort of thing. But they were getting over it, slowly. Martin was exceptionally bright. I tried to encourage that. I gave him books to read.’

‘What sort of books?’

‘All sorts. He was interested in science and history. I gave him books about the Greeks and the Romans. He was fascinated by the idea that the house could have been built on a Roman site.’

Nelson remembers Ruth’s comments about Roman pottery found on the site. So the priest had known that, even then.

‘So you had a close relationship with the children?’

Again the priest meets his eyes squarely, almost defiantly. ‘Yes.’

‘And the other staff members?’

‘Everyone loved Elizabeth. She was a very lovable child. Martin was… Martin was more difficult.’

‘We’ve spoken to Sister Immaculata -’

‘Have you?’ Hennessey leans forward eagerly. ‘How is she?’

‘In reasonable health,’ Nelson replies coldly, ‘mentally unimpaired,’ he adds.

Hennessey nods. ‘Good. She’s had a hard life, poor woman.’

Nelson ignores this. ‘She says that Martin was a troublemaker.’

‘As I say, he was angry.’

‘Did he have uncontrollable rages?’ asks Clough sympathetically.

For the first time, Father Hennessey looks angry. ‘No, he did not have “uncontrollable rages”.’ His voice puts irritable quotes around the words. ‘Nor did he kill his sister in a fit of demonic temper, as I imagine you’re implying. He loved her. They were exceptionally close.’

‘Unnaturally close?’

‘No, naturally close. They were a brother and sister with no one else in the world. Don’t you think they would be close?’

‘I assume nothing,’ says Nelson. ‘You knew them. I didn’t. I just want to find out who would kill a child and throw its head down a well. Now whoever did that, they were unnatural.’

Father Hennessey looks at him. ‘Unnatural maybe,’ he says in his quietest voice, ‘evil certainly.’

The drive home is silent apart from Clough chomping his way through two packets of Hula Hoops. Nelson is conscious that they haven’t really got much further. Father Hennessey had seemed shocked at the discovery of the skull but he had also seemed genuinely surprised. Not surprised enough though to blurt out any confessions. Not that Nelson ever really thought he would; Father Hennessey is a cool customer. Controlled, hard almost, despite the surface warmth. Does this make him a murderer?

‘Do you think he did it?’ Nelson asks Clough as they speed through several picturesque villages (‘Kill your speed, not a child!’).

‘The priest? Maybe. Easy enough to kill them, hide the bodies and bury them later. The cops didn’t even dig up the grounds.’

‘Bloody muppets.’ Nelson grinds his teeth. ‘Do you think there’s anyone still around from those days?’

‘Maybe Tom Henty. You know, the desk sergeant at Lynn. He’s been around for donkeys’ years.’

‘Good idea. I’ll talk to him.’

‘Do you think Hennessey did it?’ Clough looks curiously at his boss

‘I think he’s hiding something,’ says Nelson slowly. ‘Something to do with the children. Maybe he’s covering up for someone.’

‘What about that nun? Judy said she was a nutter.’

‘No she didn’t. She said she was as sharp as a needle.’

‘Same thing. The nun could have killed them.’

‘Why?’

‘Maybe she abused the little girl and the boy found out.’

‘Your mind’s like a tabloid.’

‘Thank you.’

‘It’s not a compliment. Pretty hard to dispose of the body of a twelve-year-old.’

‘If they’re not dead, where are they then?’

‘That’s the question. We’ll widen the search. Try to find some relatives in Ireland. Talk to other people from the home. Nine times out of ten, missing people turn up right back where they started. It’s almost as if they can’t keep away.’

‘Do you think they’re alive?’

‘The boy maybe. He was old enough to look after himself. The girl… I think the girl might be our skeleton.’

‘Well, it would be a bit of a coincidence if she isn’t,’ says Clough, probing his empty Hula Hoops packet with a moistened finger, ‘two dead children on one site.’

‘Yes,’ says Nelson thoughtfully. He is thinking about the site – it has held a children’s home, a churchyard and maybe even a Roman villa. Who knows how many other incarnations it has had, how many deaths it has witnessed? He shakes himself mentally. What’s the matter with him? He’s starting to think like Cathbad.

‘You know what was funny?’ says Clough, finally abandoning his search in the packet. ‘How much he talked about love.’

‘Priests do that.’

‘No. It was creepy. He said the girl was “lovable”. I think that’s a bit weird.’

Nelson considers. Was it weird? He had dismissed Hennessey’s remarks (‘Everyone loved Elizabeth’) as standard priest-speak but what if Clough is right? Is something more sinister at work here? Is ‘lovable’ an odd word to use about a five-year-old girl? Does he mean, in fact, that he was in some perverted way in love with her?

‘That’s what the nun said. It was in Judy’s report. She said Hennessey believed the boy needed “love and attention”.’

Nelson is rather impressed that Clough has remembered this. But then again, it’s a sad world if no one is allowed to love children.

‘Maybe he did love them,’ he suggests, ‘in a non-sexual, fatherly way.’

‘Jesus,’ scoffs Clough, ‘you’re sounding like a right Godsquadder.’

‘Rubbish,’ says Nelson angrily, pulling out onto the motorway with the minimum of care. ‘I’m just not jumping to conclusions. Never assume, that’s what my first boss used to say.’

‘I know. It makes an ass out of you and me.’ Clough looks out of the window. Nelson wonders if he’s getting a bit above himself. A good spell in the archives tomorrow will take him down a peg or two.

‘Tomorrow,’ he says coldly, ‘you can start the search for the kids’ family. And look up the Land Registry for the house. I want a list of everyone who’s ever owned the site.’

‘Jesus,’ mutters Clough, in a distinctly non-religious tone.

CHAPTER 17

Max has suggested that they meet at Reedham which strikes Ruth as extremely inconvenient. Reedham is on the Broads, on the opposite side of Norwich. Getting there will involve a long and boring drive through the seven circles of hell, or the Norwich bypass. Why on earth couldn’t they meet somewhere in King’s Lynn, thinks Ruth crossly as she gets into her car. King’s Lynn is not exactly short of restaurants. Maybe Max is a food freak who is going to take her to one of those experimental places that offer sausage-flavoured ice cream or deep-fried hedgehog. Well, if anyone gives her deep-fried hedgehog, she will be sick all over them and serve them right. She is beginning to wish that she had stayed in with The Wire and an M &S lasagne.

They are meeting by the Ship, a well-known Norfolk pub popular with river trippers. Surely she hasn’t come all this way to have a pub meal surrounded by braying Londoners?

Max is sitting at a table overlooking the river. He jumps up when he sees Ruth and when she gets near enough kisses her awkwardly on the cheek. Is this a date then?