‘Sorry to bother you, guv. There’s quite a bit of distraction in the office and it’s hard to concentrate. Is it OK if I type up my report at home?’

‘I don’t care where you do it as long as it’s done by ten in the morning.’

‘Thanks. I’ll see you in the morning after my meeting with Barnes.’

‘You’ll be fine. Whatever happens, he knows he can’t brush a nun’s murder under the carpet. It’s just a question of manpower and the cost of investigating something which may never be solvable.’

‘I know,’ Jane said. ‘I shouldn’t have reacted like I did at the mortuary or here earlier.’

‘It’s all right. I get why you’re upset over the way you’ve been treated in the past. There’s many an officer who would have handed in their warrant card by now.’

She gave him a wry smile. ‘It’s crossed my mind a few times.’

‘That’s the thing I most admire about you, Jane. You’re a fighter, not a quitter.’

‘It’s good to know you’re on my side.’

‘I always have been, Jane. I remember the first time I met you in the back of an observation van in the early seventies.’

She laughed. ‘So do I! You told me to keep watch and then went to sleep.’

He grinned. ‘Happy days. For what it’s worth, my advice is not to bottle things up and let them eat away at you. Listen to other people’s viewpoints, then speak your mind calmly and objectively.’

Jane knew he was right, though it seemed odd coming from Stanley. This wasn’t the scatterbrained man she’d worked with when he was a DC and DS. Promotion to DI seemed to have somehow made him a lot more thoughtful.

CHAPTER SEVEN

There was a slight drizzle of rain falling as Jane knocked on the door of the old Victorian presbytery, tucked round the back of St Mary’s Church. The paint on the timber sash window ledges was peeling away and in need of repair, as was the slate roof which was missing a few tiles and covered in moss.

As she waited, Jane knew she should have asked Stanley’s permission to tell Father Chris about the murdered nun, and he probably would have told her to wait and see what Barnes had to say. But as she’d told Father Chris she would update him after the coffin was opened, Jane felt it only right that she did it personally.

Thirty seconds passed and there was no answer. Jane wondered if he was out and knocked again a little louder. She was about to leave when the door opened a bit and Father Chris stuck his head round. Jane could see his hair was dripping wet.

He seemed surprised to see her. ‘Detective Tennison. Please excuse the state of me . . . I was just having a shower.’

‘No need to apologise, Father. I should have phoned ahead to let you know I was coming.’

‘Is it about the coffin?’