Chris spoke as they walked. ‘With all that’s happened concerning the nun’s murder, I find my faith in the priesthood and Catholic Church being tested to its limits. It’s like a dark shroud has descended on me . . . and I can no longer see the light.’

‘There’s rotten apples in every profession,’ Jane said. She placed her hand on his arm. ‘Whatever happens, you have to do what is right for you, Chris.’

‘God bless you, Jane. It’s been a pleasure knowing you. I wish you well in your investigation.’ He leaned forward, hugged her and gently kissed her on the cheek before walking off towards the presbytery.

Jane was lost for words. It was like a final, sad goodbye, yet she had also felt a surge of arousal when he held and kissed her.

As she drove off, Nick ducked down until she had turned the corner. Sitting upright and close to tears, he punched the steering wheel.

‘You’re all the fucking same!’ he said through gritted teeth.

Chapter Twenty-One

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Entering the Orpington incident room, Jane was surprised at how organised and well-equipped it was, given how quickly it had been set up. The conference-room table was pushed up against one wall and twelve chairs were set out for the press to sit at. A4 photographs of the nun’s coffin, body and the cross were stuck on one wall. Large Bromley planning department maps and plans of the convent – from 1851, 1964 and 1981 – were on another wall. A large whiteboard had ‘Victim – MB?’ written on it, her estimated age range, height, and hair colour. Under it was written ‘Pathologist – Dr Samantha Pullen’, with details of her post-mortem findings and cause of death. DS Johnson’s name had ‘Lab liaison sergeant’ written next to it with plenty of space for the forensic results when they came in. A tall filing shelf was filled with statement forms, action and information sheets, message pads, writing paper, pens, and as-yet-empty filing trays.

‘You’ve done a good job here, guv,’ Jane told Stanley.

‘Looks all right, doesn’t it? I spoke with your man Eaves this morning. He worked from photographs and X-rays of the head over the weekend and produced these for the press conference.’ He opened a folder and showed Jane two A4-sized artist’s impressions of the murdered nun, one wearing a veil and the other without.

Jane thought they portrayed her as an attractive, serene-looking young woman.

Stanley stuck them on the wall. ‘They look quite lifelike. If we identify our victim, it’ll be interesting to see how closely Eaves’ impression resembles an old photograph of her.’

‘Is Barnes happy to use them in his appeal?’ Jane asked.