Brandon spotted an opening.
‘Excellent,’ he said, ‘There seems to be a very strong religious influence around here.’
‘You could say that,’ said the Priest, ‘Though our congregations are very old and very small, these days.’
‘I thought that Christianity was undergoing a bit of a comeback.’
‘Well, if you’re into rock bands and happy clappy Christianity, I suppose it is, but it’s not my cup of tea.’
‘You’re a bit more traditional, I take it.’
‘It’s what the people expect around here.’
‘Yes, I’ve noticed said Brandon,’ looking around, ‘I’ve even seen a few Nuns walking around the village.’
‘Really?’ asked the Priest, ‘That’s unusual for this time of the year.’
‘Oh, I thought they were based in this church.’
‘Heavens, no said father Grant, ‘We are far too small. We often get visitors but have no permanent nuns, though we do have volunteers from the local convent, occasionally.’
‘I didn’t know there was a convent around here,’ said Brandon, ‘What order would be?’
‘Santa Rosa,’ said the priest. ‘A very old order I’m led to believe.’
‘May be worth interviewing them,’ said Brandon, ‘Perhaps you could introduce me?’
‘I doubt it,’ said the priest, ‘They keep themselves to themselves.
‘What’s there to be secretive about?’ asked Brandon. ‘I thought the church was modernising.’
‘Let’s just say that some would rather cling on to the old days,’ said the priest.
‘Sounds fascinating,’ said Brandon,’ I’d really like to meet one of them, if I could.’
‘Waste of time said the priest. They are a silent order.’
‘What, they don’t speak at all?’ asked Brandon, thinking of what the cleaner had said about her conversations with Sister Wendy.
‘They do sometimes, but only out of necessity. They certainly wouldn’t consent to be interviewed.’
‘Do you mind if I try?’
‘Nothing to do with me,’ laughed the priest, ‘But I think you are wasting your time.’
‘Perhaps,’ said Brandon, ‘Are there any here at the moment?’
‘No, sorry, they are in retreat.’
‘In the convent?’
‘Yes, the Mother Superior sadly passed away this week. Very sad.’
‘And where is the convent?’ asked Brandon, finally getting to the crux of the matter.
The priest paused for a few seconds.
‘Do you know what?’ he said, after a while, ‘I can’t really say. I’ve never thought about it before but I don’t really know where it is. Never had need to I suppose, I’ve only been here a couple of years myself.’
‘No idea at all?’
‘Oh, I know its somewhere near the old Roman Temple but I couldn’t give you directions.’
‘Never mind,’ said Brandon, ‘Probably a waste of time anyway.’ He spent another few minutes making small talk with the pleasant young priest before making his excuses and leaving. Murray watched him stride down the path.
‘About fucking time,’ he said. ‘Thought you done a runner there.’
‘Why would I do a runner?’ answered Brandon, ‘You’ve got a grand of mine in your pocket and I still got five hours left on the meter.’
‘Meter’s off,’ said Murray, ‘Remember?’
‘You know what I mean,’ said Brandon, climbing into the car.
Murray got into the driving seat and started the engine.
‘Where to this time, 007?’ he asked, sarcastically.
‘Weycock Hill!’ answered Brandon.
Murray looked at him through the rear view mirror, mild amusement in his face.
‘Oh for fuck sake,’ said Brandon, reaching for his I Phone. ‘Just drive northwards out of town. I’ll get a location from the web.’
‘Good things them interwebs,’ said Murray, gunning the engine. ‘Might be getting one myself, soon. Suppose I could get a good one for a grand.’ He smiled into the mirror, but though Brandon glanced up, he didn’t bite.
‘Just drive,’ he said as he waited to get a signal on his phone.
‘Roger Dodger, 007,’ said Murray pulling out into the traffic, laughing at his own joke as he went.
Chapter 27
London 2010
When the taxi arrived at Victoria station, the stranger led her past the entrance to the steps of a beautiful house with an imposing entrance.
‘Where are we going?’ asked India.
‘Somewhere safe,’ said the man, breaking the relative silence he had maintained throughout the taxi ride.
She followed him up the steps and watched him swipe a card across a magnetic reader, disengaging a lock and they walked into an imposing hallway with a gated lift at the far end. India looked around in awe. Having seen the man use the modern swipe card she had half expected to see a modern hallway but what she walked into took her breath away. It was as if she had stepped back in time.
The decor was straight out of the thirties with walnut panelling lining the walls and lush carpets soft beneath her feet. Above her, several levels of landings circled the spectacular hallway and the biggest chandelier India had ever seen hung dramatically from the ceiling high above.
‘Wow,’ said India, ‘What is this place?’
‘You like it?’ asked the man, allowing himself a quick glance around as he removed his coat, before placing it on an ornately carved coat hanger. ‘It is rather quaint isn’t it?’
‘It’s beautiful,’ said India, in awe.
‘We like it,’ said the man.
‘Who’s we?’ asked India.
‘All in good time, please, come this way.’ He walked past the stairways, and slid open the gate to the lift. India followed him in.
‘Which floor?’ she asked as he closed the gates, her fingers hovering over the ivory buttons.
‘None of those,’ he said, producing a key on a chain from around his neck. ‘Excuse me.’
He eased her to one side and placed a finger on a small brass plaque bearing the manufacturers name, sliding it to one side to reveal a keyhole.
‘Security,’ he said with an apologetic smile. He turned the key, and to India’s surprise the lift descended rather than travel upwards.
A few seconds later the lift came to an abrupt stop bur the view through the gates was obscured by a large door. The man slid open the gate and pushed the door away from them.
‘After you,’ he said and stood to one side for India to pass.
India stepped through but stopped suddenly, as she saw she had entered a large, subterranean car park.
‘Wait a minute,’ she said, nervously, ‘Are you sure…’
Her sentence remained unfinished as the man’s strong arms enveloped her from behind.
India’s eyes widened and she thrashed wildly for a few seconds before the stench of chloroform from the cloth enveloped her senses and she slipped unconsciously to the floor.
