‘Mike, I need this from you. You are my oldest friend and I have no-one else to turn to. This girl is, well, she means a lot to me and I will not abandon her. All I need is to find out where they have taken her.’
There was silence on the other end of the phone for a few seconds before Mike spoke again.
‘Brandon, I am not putting my career on the line for this, but I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I will refer your request to the CO and ask his permission to extend your posting. I know he’s going to an officer’s mess bash tonight, and has a couple of days leave after that, so he won’t get the request until Monday. I am sure he will pull the plug, but until he does, I will keep you online. That gives you just over three days.’
‘What about support?’
‘We’ve already got a team on stand bye anyway, so I won’t stand them down until you come in. Make sure your beacon is armed.’
‘Will do,’ said Brandon.
‘I hope she is worth it, matey,’ said Mike, ‘Now, I need descriptions, locations and timings.’
Brandon gave his colleague what info he had, knowing that Mike could draw on no end of intelligence and contacts to scour the CCTV network.
‘Got it,’ said Mike, ‘Anything else I need to know?’
‘No that’s it, I think.’
‘Right, give me a couple of hours, and I will get back to you. If you find yourself in the smelly stuff, hit your beacon and we’ll come running.’
‘Cheers, Mike,’ said Brandon, ‘I owe you one.’
‘That’s right,’ said Mike, ‘You do!’ and rang off.
An hour and a half later the taxi pulled up outside St Giles.
‘Can you wait here?’ asked Brandon.
‘Whatever you say, Mister, meter’s running,’ said Murray with a grin.
‘Oh come on, Murray, give me a break here. You’ve already got five hundred off me.’
The driver turned and stared at Brandon.
‘Look guv,’ he said, I don’t know what you’re into, and I don’t want to know, but whatever it is, it sure sounds dodgy. If it’s something illegal I could lose my license.’
‘I promise you won’t lose your license,’ said Brandon. ‘You turn that goddamn meter off, drive me around for the rest of the day and I’ll give you another five hundred cash, but that’s it. What do you say?’
‘A grand for a days work,’ smiled Murray,’ I’ve had worse days, I suppose.’
‘Good!’ said Brandon. ‘Wait here, I’ll be back in fifteen minutes.’
He left the car and made his way to the church entrance, this time the door was open.
‘Hello!’ he called ‘Anyone here?’ His voice echoed around the empty church and he walked towards the back and called out again.
‘Hello, anyone at home?’
He continued towards the office and stopped dead in his tracks. Before him was part of a bloody footprint on the flagstone. His hand crept to his pocket and he withdrew his ever present gun, pulling back on the slide to load the chamber.
Brandon pushed the door open slowly, careful not to expose too much of his body to any gunman. The office was trashed and behind the upturned desk, Brandon could see a body. He checked around the room before crouching besides the man, placing his gun in his inside jacket pocket. A pool of scarlet spread from the victim’s bleeding skull, a nearby discarded candlestick, the obvious attack weapon.
Brandon took in the scene, frowning as he did so. Something was wrong. This was no vicar on the floor, and though he didn’t know him, he seemed strangely familiar. The man’s eyes opened and stared up at Brandon.
‘Don’t worry, son,’ said Brandon, fishing for his mobile, ‘I’ll get an ambulance. Who’s done this to you?’
The man struggled with a few breaths, coughing up blood as he did.
‘Him,’ said the man, ‘The priest.’
‘The
‘Mortuus Virgo,’ said the man though bubbles of blood in his throat, ‘I didn’t realise, you must stop them.’
‘Who are Mortuus Virgo,’ asked Brandon, his voice raised in frustration, ‘Where is India? Come on man, I need some help here.’
The man’s eyes closed as he struggled with his last breaths, and, as he died, Brandon realised why the he had seemed so familiar. This was the man they had been seeking, Jason Venezelos.
He laid the man back down on the floor, trying to make sense of the situation. If he was correct, and this was indeed the second Venezelos brother, then that trail had just come to an abrupt end. He looked around the room, searching for anything that would give him any idea where to look next. After searching the room, including the drawers and cupboards he was none the wiser and left the office to return to the taxi. As he entered the church itself, he heard someone approaching, and, though he froze against the wall, was relieved to see it was the same cleaning lady he had seen the previous day. He stepped out of the shadows, coughing to attract her attention.
‘Oh my word,’ said the woman, jumping back slightly, ‘You gave me such a start. I didn’t expect to see anyone here today. Can I help you?’
‘Possibly,’ said Brandon, ‘Do you work here?’
‘I do,’ said the lady, ‘Iaid esm sorry, who are you?’
‘I think you had better sit down,’ said Brandon, indicating a nearby pew. He pulled out his wallet and showed her his ID.
‘Can I ask you your name?’ he asked.
‘Colleen,’ she said, ‘Colleen McNamara. What is this about?’
‘Colleen, in a moment we need to call the police, but first I need to ask you some questions.’
Why, what’s happened?’ she asked, her brows frowning in concern.
‘I’m afraid there’s been a murder,’ said Brandon.
Colleen’s hand flew to her mouth.
‘Oh my God,’ she gasped, ‘Is it Father O’Brian?’
‘Is Father O Brian the priest of this church?’ he asked.
‘Yes, is he okay?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Brandon.
‘But you said…’
‘The dead person is not from around here,’ said Brandon, ‘And there is no sign of father o Brian. But I do need to know some things about him. Can you help me?’
‘I’ll try,’ she said, ‘What do you want to know?’
‘How long have you worked here, Colleen?’
‘About ten years, in all,’ she said, ‘A couple of hours cleaning here and there and I sort the flowers for weddings and funerals.’
‘So you knew father O Brian well?’
‘Not really,’ she said.
‘What do you mean?’ asked Brandon.
‘Well, he was okay, nice enough if you know what I mean, said good morning as he passed but tended to keep himself to himself.’
‘Isn’t that a bit strange for a priest?’ asked Brandon.
‘Oh, he was okay when he was here, but spent a lot of time away from the church, so he did.’
‘Do you know where exactly?’
‘Don’t know,’ she answered shrugging her shoulders, ‘We only open on Sundays and for weddings and funerals. I was called in when needed, you see.’
‘But you must have talked to him to arrange the details of your tasks.’
‘Not at all, I took my instructions from Sister Wendy.’
‘And who is she?’
