A christmas shadow, p.15
A Christmas Shadow, page 15
“Where was Simon Fortescue during the ceremony?” asked Shadow.
George gave him a quizzical look. “He was taking part in the ceremony. He was one of the candle bearers, along with Marjorie and a couple of the teachers from the Minster school. They were the ones dressed in white who lit all the candles.”
“What happened at the end of the ceremony?”
“I unlocked the door, and everyone went to get changed.”
“Wait, they all get changed together?”
“It’s only the outer ceremonial vestments they remove like the copes and albs.”
Shadow nodded. “Who was the last person to leave the vestry?”
“The dean herself,” replied George promptly.
“You sound very sure.”
George looked a little embarrassed as he took a sip of his pint and lowered his voice. “Well, you see I was wanting them all to hurry up. I was desperate for the loo and there’s a staff toilet next to the vestry, but it was occupied by Canon Marchman. He went straight there after the ceremony and was in for ages.”
“Perhaps he wasn’t well.”
“No, it was nothing like that. I could hear the tap running from outside. At first, I thought he must have burnt his hand on a candle and was running it under cold water, but when he came out, he was carrying his stole, the narrow strip of cloth he wore draped around his neck, and he was looking even more worried than usual. I asked him if he was all right and he said he’d been trying to wash a dirty mark out of the stole.”
“What sort of dirty mark?”
“I didn’t ask, but I understood him being worried. Marjorie is in charge of all the ceremonial vestments and woe betide anyone who damages or dirties them. She’s had at least three of the young choristers in tears over grubby marks on their surplices.”
Shadow nodded. He could well believe it. The woman had even turned her own husband into a nervous wreck.
“So, what happened next?”
“Canon Marchman must have removed his outer vestments in the loo and handed them straight to Marjorie, who had already noticed they weren’t with the others. She put them in the vestry, then she and the dean left at the same time. I put my head around the door to check everyone had gone. Then I locked up and finally managed to go to the loo.”
“What happened with Simon Fortescue’s phone?”
“He must have forgotten to collect it after the ceremony. I unlocked the vestry for Marjorie the next morning and there it was on the floor, under one of the tables with the screen all smashed. Now enough of work. What are you up to over Christmas?”
Half an hour later, after Shadow had heard all about the toy train set George had bought for his grandson, they left the pub. Shadow said goodbye to his old friend, but instead of following him down Goodramgate, he turned in the opposite direction and walked towards Monk Bar. He read the notice pinned to the locked wooden door at the bottom of the narrow stone steps and nodded to himself. His memory was correct.
*
When he arrived at the station the next morning, Shadow found the incident room had been rearranged for the video meeting with Chief Constable Maxwell and Inspector Grabowski. The whiteboards had been moved to make space for two large screens. Shadow reluctantly took his seat next to Jimmy, who was positioned in front of a camera. His sergeant kept clearing his throat, straightening his tie and was nervously checking through his notes. Shadow briefly updated him on what he’d learnt from Simon Fortescue the previous night and Jimmy hurriedly scribbled it all down.
“By the way, Chief. I checked out Luca. He was definitely on the flight he told you about,” he said.
“As I suspected,” replied Shadow, nodding to Tom, who was sitting directly behind them. The young constable had been rather subdued since the mix-up with contacting the police from Anna’s home country. Inspector Grabowski, who Shadow had briefly met once earlier in the year, appeared on one of the screens along with several other plain-clothed officers. The letters ROCU were written on the wall behind her. Jimmy was engrossed in his notes, so Shadow turned to Tom.
“I thought she was from the National Crime Agency?”
“She was,” replied Tom. “She transferred to the Regional Organised Crime Unit in Leeds a few months ago. I guess it made sense to have her as the link between the Yorkshire and Humber regional forces and the NCA.”
Shadow nodded and sighed. He hated acronyms and abbreviations and he had a feeling this meeting was going to be full of them.
Jimmy rose to his feet as Chief Constable Maxwell appeared on her screen from her office at North Yorkshire Police’s headquarters in Northallerton. After she’d welcomed them all to the meeting, she handed over to him. Shadow listened as Jimmy gave a clear and concise update on everything that had happened since their first visit to La Dolce Vita. Inspector Grabowski seemed to be making notes and the chief constable nodded her head occasionally. She was the first to speak when Jimmy had finished.
“Thank you, Sergeant Chang. As I suspected, this appears to be an extremely complex case that may call on us to involve both the DEA…”
“Drug Enforcement Agency,” Tom whispered behind Shadow.
“…and HMRC…”
“Her Majesty’s Revenue and Customs, Chief,” hissed Tom.
“Yes, thank you. I know that one, Tom,” Shadow hissed back as the chief constable continued to speak.
“But it would be quite something if ROCU working alongside the NYP were responsible for breaking a drugs ring with Don Rossetti at the centre.”
Inspector Grabowski raised her hand. “Excuse me, ma’am, but we haven’t received any intelligence that would lead us to believe that the Sacra Corona Unita are operating in Yorkshire, or indeed anywhere in the UK,” said Inspector Grabowski. “What’s more, my opposite number in the Lecce Police agrees with the information we received from Chief Inspector Shadow. He’s heard from various sources that Don Rossetti had retired to this country to be with his daughter. There was a rumour that he is in the early stages of dementia and was seen as a liability.”
Shadow nodded as he recalled Barbara’s comment about her father liking to tell stories from the past. Something not unusual to people suffering from that the disease, but not a very safe trait for a gangster to develop.
Inspector Grabowski pressed on. “Here at the ROCU we would like to continue with our investigation into the Albanian gang who we believe are behind the drugs supply in Leeds. We are looking into a possible connection between Smith and the man we only know as the Snowman, ma’am.”
The chief constable shook her head firmly. “No, I don’t believe men like Don Rossetti ever retire, Inspector. I’m convinced he must be behind the supply of drugs in York and by extension the murders of David Smith and Anna Novak. It’s too much of a coincidence that the head of an organised crime family arrived in the city and all this happens.”
Shadow could tell from Inspector Grabowski’s expression that she was as unconvinced as he was by this course of action, but she wasn’t about to contradict the chief constable, who was still speaking.
“I want the ROCU to start tapping the telephones of Barbara Smith and to organise a surveillance operation, in let’s say twenty-four hours. Also, investigate again any connection between her and David Smith. Their names seem too much of a coincidence too. Then I want CSI to take a look at the hotel room Smith was found in and this wine shop. Have the young men who work there been seen recently, Sergeant Chang?”
“No, ma’am,” replied Jimmy. “There’s no sign of them and the place has been closed since trading standards contacted them.”
“I want you to double-check the alibi they have for Sunday night,” ordered the chief constable.
Shadow folded his arms turned to look out the window as his boss continued to suggest courses of action that they had either already followed or ruled as unnecessary. He watched as large powdery flakes of snow began falling from the sky. It looked like Sophie would get her wish of a white wedding, while over in Lecce it was sunny and fifteen degrees. He’d checked the European weather in the newspaper that morning.
The chief constable paused and switched her steely gaze to Jimmy. “Thank you for your input, Sergeant Chang. I would have asked the ROCU to liaise with you, but I understand you’ll be away for several weeks following your marriage tomorrow.” Then almost as an afterthought she said, “Congratulations.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” replied Jimmy, smiling politely while sounding slightly deflated.
The meeting ended and both Chief Constable Maxwell and Inspector Grabowski disappeared from their screens. Jimmy slapped his notes down on the table and shook his head in disappointment.
“So, that’s it, Chief. The whole investigation has been taken away from us. It feels like we’ve wasted our time this last week.”
Shadow got to his feet and patted the younger man on the shoulder.
“Don’t let it bother you too much, Sergeant. Like the chief constable said, you’ll be off on your honeymoon tomorrow and it wasn’t all a waste of time. You did an excellent job with the briefing. You’ll have made a good impression on Inspector Grabowski and Chief Constable Maxwell.”
“Thanks, Chief,” replied Jimmy, looking up in surprise at his uncharacteristic compliment.
Shadow spent the rest of the afternoon preparing reports to be handed over to Inspector Grabowski and her team, as requested by the chief constable. Outside his window snowflakes continued to fall from the leaden sky. He stood up for a moment to watch as they were swallowed by the swirling and churning Ouse. He couldn’t help thinking his time would be better spent investigating the death of the young woman they’d pulled out of there only a few days earlier. Instead, it looked like she was going to be treated as collateral damage, only a small part of the bigger drugs investigation everyone seemed so obsessed with. The chief constable had barely shown any interest when Jimmy had given details of her working and private life.
At exactly five o’clock that evening Shadow and Jimmy left the station together. Jimmy still seemed a little subdued.
“Cheer up,” said Shadow. “You are away for three weeks from tomorrow, so you wouldn’t have been around for the investigation anyway. You’ve got more important things to think about.”
It was the night before the wedding and Rose, Jimmy’s mother, was hosting a dinner for all the members of her family who had arrived in the city from Hong Kong. Shadow had been invited too.
“Isn’t it more traditional to have your stag do the night before the wedding?” he queried as they ploughed their way through the endless throng of shoppers surrounding the wood huts on Parliament Street.
“Sophie and I had a joint do at the end of October. We went go-karting and paintballing. Sophie combined the words ‘hen’ and ‘stag’ and called it a ‘hag do’, you know with it being near Halloween. We thought it was safer to hold it early in case of injuries. Neither of us wanted to appear on the wedding photos with a black eye. Don’t you remember, Chief? You came to the meal afterwards at the Bengal Brasserie?”
Shadow grunted. He vaguely recalled being dragged along by Maggie to an Indian restaurant where the food played havoc with his digestive system. The heat of the food was matched only by the flaming shots Sophie and her brothers started downing at the end of the meal. Shadow hadn’t stayed long.
As soon as they entered the Golden Dragon, Jimmy disappeared into a crowd of cheering and clapping relatives. Upstairs in the restaurant, a huge buffet table stretched out for the full length of the room and there were chairs loosely grouped together, although most people seemed to be happy to stand and eat and chat. Rose had provided enough food to feed an army. Shadow watched from his seat in the corner as she and Angela dashed back and forth ensuring all their guests had a full glass, pausing only to exchange a joke or a quick peck on the cheek.
His thoughts strayed to Luca. He would be back home in Italy now, ensconced with his own family. No doubt telling them all about his trip and the man they only knew from photos, who still lived on the boat he had shared with their aunt.
Jimmy’s grandfather didn’t appear to be particularly impressed by being surrounded by his extended family. As soon as the meal was over, Shadow felt a tap on his shoulder and the old man beckoned him over for their usual game of backgammon and as usual he lost.
When Shadow finally left the Golden Dragon, he didn’t immediately head back to Florence, but instead made his way to Minster Court. The chief constable might have told him to take a step back from the investigation, but there was still one aspect he might be able to get to the bottom of.
*
“I apologise for the late hour, Mrs Marchman, but I was hoping to speak with your husband,” he explained when Gwyneth answered the door.
“Do come in, Chief Inspector. No need to apologise. This isn’t late to me. I’m a terrible insomniac. I don’t usually retire until the early hours of the morning.”
“I’m sorry – that must be very difficult for you,” replied Shadow as he stepped into the hallway and closed the front door behind him.
“Oh, I’m used to it, Chief Inspector. Ever since my accident it’s been this way. I put it down to not using up as much energy as when I was more mobile. I used to sleep like a log back then, but at least I’m not alone. I often see Simon, our new neighbour, taking a midnight stroll. He cuts such a dashing figure in that trilby,” explained Gwyneth as she wheeled herself down a corridor. The Marchmans’ house felt warm and cosy. The air was scented with coffee and fresh baking. Carols were playing softly in the background.
“Have you seen him recently?” he asked, noticing the framed opera and ballet programmes that lined the walls of the hallway.
“Oh yes, he’s passed my window the last few nights.”
“On Sunday night? After the Advent ceremony?”
“Yes. Hugh and I both heard the ambulance bringing Clarissa back, then an hour or so later, Hugh was asleep by then, but I saw Simon quite clearly in the distance. Not that I was too surprised. It must have been a terrible shock, poor man; no wonder he couldn’t sleep.”
By now they were outside a panelled door. Gwyneth pushed it open.
“Please wait here in Hugh’s office, Chief Inspector. He’s baking in the kitchen, attempting a panettone, bless him. He knows it’s my favourite. I’ll let him know you are here. He won’t be a moment. May I offer you a cup of tea?”
“No, but thank you very much, Mrs Marchman,” replied Shadow as he stepped into the tidy, but slightly shabby office.
Gwyneth wheeled herself back down the hallway calling out, “Hugh, Chief Inspector Shadow is here to see you, my dear.”
Shadow glanced around the room. On the desk there was a sheaf of papers, a black fountain pen and a leather-bound Bible with several pieces of paper marking places in the Old Testament. He carefully opened it and fished out his glasses. He scanned through the text and shook his head. It was as he’d suspected. Gently he closed the Bible again as the door opened and Canon Marchman hurried in. He was wearing his usual anxious expression and an apron covered in jolly-looking robins over his dark suit and his hands were still covered with flour.
“Good heavens, Chief Inspector, is something wrong?” he asked, wiping his hand on the apron several times before offering it to the Chief Inspector.
“There’s a matter I would like to discuss with you, Canon Marchman. Two matters, in fact.”
Hugh’s face turned as white as his hands. “Two matters, Chief Inspector?”
“Yes, Canon Marchman. Which would you like to begin with, the threatening letters you have been sending to the dean or the money you have been embezzling from the Minster?”
Hugh removed his glasses and collapsed into the armchair by the fire. “I’ve been an utter fool, Chief Inspector.” He put his head in his hands and began to weep quietly. “I’ve risked everything for the sake of a few thousand pounds. Money truly is the root of all evil.”
“I assume the letters were some sort of attempt to scare off the new dean? With her background in accountancy, it was quite possible she would want to cast a professional eye over the accounts and find out what you’d been up to.”
“I was desperate,” Hugh sobbed. “Ever since I heard Clarissa had been appointed I’ve barely slept a wink. After twenty years as the canon treasurer, I’m trusted implicitly by the annual auditors. When her appointment was announced, a few letters turned up, complaining that it was against God’s will to have a woman in that position. That’s what gave me the idea. I only wanted to make her feel unwelcome. Everyone said she was destined to be a bishop. I thought I might be able to hasten her on.”
Shadow removed the letter that was left at the Minster on the night of the Advent Procession from his pocket and placed it in front of the canon.
“You even left this one for her on the night of the Advent Procession, when you were in such a hurry you got ink on your vestments.”
Hugh shook his head at the memory. “That awful night, when I saw her collapsed on the floor of the Chapter House. It was as if my prayers had been answered and I was horrified at what I’d done. It brought me to my senses. I knew I had to stop. I had spent weeks wishing her ill and she’d almost died right in front of my eyes.”
“When did you start stealing money?” asked Shadow as the canon’s tears continued to run down his face.
“A little over a year ago.”
“Why did you do it?” asked Shadow.
“It was when the previous dean’s retirement was announced. I realised in ten years or so I would be in the same position. Gwyneth and I would have to leave here – the house goes with the position of canon treasurer, you see – and I haven’t been able to put much aside for our retirement. It seemed to me there wasn’t going to be much to look forward to in our old age.”
