She turned to Stanley. ‘I spoke with Nick Durham earlier. He runs the company that’s doing the new building work in the convent grounds. He was very helpful, but obviously a bit upset at the site being closed.’

Stanley shrugged. ‘Tough shit. I’m sure he’s not short of a few quid.’

‘There’s some old buildings on the site that were burnt out in the sixties. Durham wondered if they could knock them down,’ Jane continued.

‘Fine by me, as long as it’s all surface work and no digging. Let’s go over everything we’ve got so far in my office. We also need to write up an action plan.’

In his office, Jane sat opposite Stanley.

‘Barnes was impressed with your report.’

‘I was worried he’d pick holes in it. But he was actually very pleasant and listened to what I had to say – though it would be fair to point out he didn’t agree with all my views. I reckon he’ll form a full murder squad once we identify the nun.’

Stanley nodded. ‘I asked Barnes why he wanted her murder kept quiet. He told me he was running late for a meeting and to ask you.’

Jane told Stanley about the suicide of young Stephen Phillips and what Barnes had uncovered during the investigation.

‘I could see he was still quite emotional about it all,’ she added.

‘I’m not surprised. The death of a child is never easy to investigate, but to discover that priests and nuns could abuse kids in their care – then cover it up – is sickening. Do you want me to come with you to meet the bishop?’

‘I’ll be fine,’ Jane said. ‘Stephen’s death was nearly twenty years ago now. I’d like to think the Catholic Church’s attitude has changed since then. Father Floridia offered his assistance before we even knew if there was a body in the coffin . . .’

‘He may be fishing for information,’ Stanley said.

‘I don’t think so. He came across as very sincere.’

Stanley snorted. ‘You’ve only met him once. First impressions can be misleading. Take Barnes’s advice, tread carefully and don’t give away too much.’

‘I haven’t,’ Jane said quickly.

He raised his eyebrows. ‘Why does it feel to me like you’re trying to defend yourself?’

‘I’m not. I just think you’re wrong about Father Chris,’ Jane said without thinking.

‘On first-name terms, are you? You forget, Jane, I’ve known you a long time. What is it you’re not telling me?’

Jane let out a big sigh. ‘I’ve done something I may regret . . .’

‘Well, it won’t be the first time,’ he grinned. ‘Come on, spit it out!’

Jane told him about her meeting with Father Chris the previous evening and what she’d divulged about the nun’s murder.