The bishop removed his moon-shaped glasses and stood up. He was a short, chubby-cheeked man in his late forties or early fifties, with thin black receding hair, partially covered by a rose-red skullcap. He wore an ankle-length black cassock trimmed with rose-red piping matching the buttons down the front. A large plain gold cross and chain hung from his neck down to a red cloth sash, tied around his midriff. A short, red-trimmed black cape hung from his shoulders.

The bishop raised his right hand towards Father Chris who bowed and kissed the large gold ring, set with an amethyst, that was on his third finger.

Father Chris looked at Jane. ‘May I introduce you to His Most Reverend Excellency Robert Meade, Bishop of the Diocese of Southwark. Your Excellency, this is Detective Sergeant Jane Tennison of the Metropolitan Police, Bromley.’

Bishop Meade held his right hand out to Jane who gave a little bow of her head as she shook it.

‘Welcome to Archbishop’s House, Detective Tennison. Please take a seat.’ He indicated the two chairs opposite his desk.

Jane was about to sit down when Father Chris nudged her and shook his head. They waited until the bishop was seated at his desk again and then sat down.

The young priest entered holding a tray with three coffees in bone china cups.

‘Is there anything else Your Excellency requires?’ the priest asked.

The bishop shook his head. ‘No, thank you.’ He turned to Jane.

‘Thank you for coming to see me, Detective Tennison. The Church will do everything it can to help regarding the unearthed coffin. Father Floridia told me you found the body of a nun inside the coffin.’

‘Yes, that’s correct, sir . . . I mean, Your Excellency.’

‘Under the circumstances, Bishop Meade will be fine,’ he smiled. ‘Father Floridia briefly told me the situation surrounding the discovery last night. I wonder, though, if you would be kind enough to go over it for me in more detail so I can take some notes and decide how I can best help you.’ He opened a large leather notebook and picked up a fountain pen from his desk.

‘May I take notes as well?’ Jane asked.

‘Of course. I was expecting you to.’

Jane recounted how the coffin had been found and how one of the builders had forced it open while on the site and stolen a cross from around the nun’s neck, which they had subsequently recovered.

Bishop Meade sighed and shook his head. ‘May God forgive him.’

Jane removed the photographs of the cross from the envelope. ‘As you can see, the cross is engraved. We are assuming the nun lived at the convent and I was hoping the initials and date might help us identify her.’

He looked closely at the photographs as Jane continued.

‘Father Floridia mentioned that you keep records of all the nuns who lived and worked in the diocese.’