Chapters (38)
- Cover
- Dedication
- Chatper One
- Chapter Two
- Chapter Three
- Chapter Four
- Chapter Five
- Chapter Six
- Chapter Seven
- Chapter Eight
- Chapter Nine
- Chapter Ten
- Chapter Eleven
- Chapter Twelve
- Chapter Thirteen
- Chapter Fourteen
- Chapter Fifteen
- Chapter Sixteen
- Chapter Seventeen
- Chapter Eighteen
- Chapter Nineteen
- Chapter Twenty
- Chapter Twenty-One
- Chapter Twenty-Two
- Chapter Twenty-Three
- Chapter Twenty-Four
- Chapter Twenty-Five
- Chapter Twenty-Six
- Chapter Twenty-Seven
- Chapter Twenty-Eight
- Chapter Twenty-Nine
- Chapter Thirty
- Chapter Thirty-One
- Chapter Thirty-Two
- Acknowledgements
- About the Author
- Lynda La Plante Readers’ Club
- Letter from Author
Jane drove her car to Archbishop’s House. Now that she knew there was no problem with Nick, she was able to think about the future with him. She was sure her parents would approve. Her only worry was that when she introduced him, her mother would embarrass her with too many probing questions.
She lifted the heavy brass knocker and banged it down several times. With Bishop Meade away, she had an opportunity to speak with Mrs Parkin in private. She just hoped that Mrs Parkin was unaware of the News Shopper article. The same priest she had met on Friday opened the door.
‘Good morning, Detective Tennison. Unfortunately, Bishop Meade isn’t here.’
Jane smiled. ‘Yes, I know. He said he was going to a meeting in Cambridge. I’ve actually come to speak with Mrs Parkin, the archivist.’
‘Is she expecting you?’
‘Yes. Bishop Meade has asked her to assist my inquiries in identifying the nun.’
‘Very good. The archives are down in the basement. Please follow me.’
They walked down the winding marble stairs which opened onto a long corridor.
‘Mrs Parkin’s office is just up on the right.’ The priest turned and left.
Jane knocked on the door and entered.
Her eyes had to adjust to the dimly lit, musty-smelling room. She was surprised how big it was, with row after row of alphabetically arranged books, binders and boxes stretching towards the ceiling and covering every inch of the dusty shelves.
A woman was sitting behind a large desk with a table lamp. ‘Mrs Parkin?’
‘How can I help you?’ she asked.
Mrs Parkin looked to be in her early forties, with shoulder-length blonde hair. She was short, slim, and smartly dressed in a white blouse with a bow at the neck and a black skirt.
‘I’m Detective Sergeant Tennison. I wanted to thank you personally for searching your archive records on the Sisters of Mercy Convent.’
‘My pleasure,’ she replied.
‘There were a couple of other things I was going to ask Bishop Meade about the convent so I can complete my report. Unfortunately, he’s gone to Cambridge. I wondered if you might be able to help me.’
‘I will if I can. I just need to pop to the ladies.’
Jane doubted Mrs Parkin would try and contact Meade but couldn’t be certain. ‘Actually, I need to use the toilet myself.’
Mrs Parkin smiled. ‘Follow me.’
When they returned to the archives Mrs Parkin asked Jane how she could help her.
‘Bishop Meade said the convent buildings and land were deconsecrated. Do you have a record of who in the diocese dealt with it?’