‘Those houses look new and expensive,’ Boon remarked.

Jane nodded. ‘Looks like a lot of this area was old land that’s been built on recently.’

Just past the second cul-de-sac, on the left, was a small brick-built parish church with stained-glass windows and a large double wooden door. On the church wall next to the door was a six-foot concrete statue of Christ on the cross and underneath it a large green sign saying ST MARY’S CATHOLIC CHURCH, along with holy mass and confession times. Beyond the church there was a long hedgerow and woodland.

‘I can’t see any convent. Are you sure you’ve got the right road?’ Jane asked.

‘I’m just going by what’s written on the duty sergeant’s note – that you gave me,’ he said cheekily. He pointed down the road. ‘There’s a high brick wall way down there on the left, maybe the building site is on the other side of it.’

‘I’ll drive on a bit,’ Jane said. ‘There may be an entrance further down. If not, then you can nip into the church and see if there’s anyone about you can ask.’

A hundred metres down there was an open metal gate leading onto a gravel drive.

‘That big house in front of us with a statue of what I assume is the Virgin Mary looks like a convent to me,’ Jane said.

The impressive two-storey grey stone and brick building had a seven-bay front, comprising a shallow gabled entrance flanked by a bay either side, with a further gabled two-bay projection on both ends. The large bay on the right had a holy cross on top of it and a large, pointed arch, with a stained-glass window, making it look like a chapel. A high brick wall with wooden gates abutted either end of the building.

‘I can’t see any building site. Bloody Stanley’s having a laugh and sent us out on a wild goose chase just to get wet,’ Boon said.

‘There are obviously people living or working in there and, judging by the expensive cars out front, I doubt it’s nuns. If a coffin’s been dug up, it might be somewhere else on the grounds,’ Jane suggested.

Jane parked the car, then she and Boon ran through the rain to the front entrance, where two stone steps led up to the timber-panelled door, next to which was an intercom with thirteen buzzers.

‘Looks like the convent might have been converted into flats,’ Jane said as she pressed the visitor buzzer and waited for a reply.

‘Can I help you?’ a well-spoken, deep-voiced man asked as he approached them from behind.

He was tall, well-built, looked to be in his late fifties, with a rugged complexion and a dimpled chin. He had a large golf umbrella in one hand and wore an ankle-length green waxed coat. By his side was an unleashed golden retriever, which suddenly jumped up at Jane, depositing muddy paw marks on her raincoat.

The man grabbed the dog by the collar and pulled it back. ‘Heel, Bella,’ he said firmly. ‘Sorry, she’s young and I’m still training her,’ he added, as he attached a lead to the dog’s collar.