Holy Death

Chapter 2

Two

Detective Inspector Carl West sat at his desk with his hands wrapped around a cup of hot coffee. His head hurt. He wished he’d exercised a little more restraint during the previous night’s celebration of Harry Fuller’s promotion to detective sergeant, and hoped he’d only have to manage a quiet day of paperwork in the office. Detective Constable Lisa Templar was due to join them tomorrow to replenish the ranks of his diminished team and, despite his headache, he was determined to have things ready for her.

He took a sip of his coffee and started work. He’d only managed to log on to his computer when the telephone on his desk rang. He listened as Operations gave him the details, and then went out into the squad room where, like Carl, DS Harry Fuller was nursing both a cup of coffee and a hangover.

‘You look like death warmed up, Harry.’

‘You don’t look much better, Boss. Hope we’re having a quiet one.’

Carl shook his head and immediately regretted it.

‘Our luck’s just expired. That was Operations. That fire at Gladesview House last night is looking like arson, and they’ve discovered a body in the ashes. Mike Jonas is already there. Grab your coat, we need to go take a look. I’ll drive. You don’t look like you’re up to it.’

‘Thanks, Boss.’

The front entrance of Gladesview House was sealed with crime scene tape, the handiwork of the uniformed patrol that had responded to the fire alarm along with the fire brigade. After negotiating their way through the cordon, Carl parked their silver Ford in the car park located just inside the gate, and they walked over to what was left of the old mansion.

Gladesview House, which had housed an aged-care facility for retired Catholic priests, was little more than a blackened ruin. The roof had collapsed on the eastern side of the building and one of the exterior walls had fallen into the garden. The house and gardens, which had given their name to the suburb surrounding them, had been gifted to the Church from the estate of an elderly Catholic dowager in the early nineteen-fifties, twenty years before Carl had been born.

Carl spotted Dr Mike Jonas, the police pathologist, standing with a fireman wearing a fire investigator’s jacket next to a window of the ruined building.

Carl walked over to join Dr Jonas and the fireman, while Harry went to speak with the uniformed officer in charge of the crime scene.

‘Hi, Mike. Wasn’t expecting to see you today.’

‘Morning, Carl. This is Tim Ryan.’

‘Detective Inspector Carl West.’ Carl extended his hand. ‘What have we got?’

‘One incinerated body, and a broken window that Tim reckons doesn’t look right,’ said Mike.

‘How do you see it, Tim?’

‘Looks like the fire started in this part of the building, Inspector. We had one of the sniffer dogs here earlier, and she pointed to a spot in the corridor outside this room. And, there’s a burnt petrol can on the floor there as well.’

‘That’s usually pretty convincing evidence,’ said Carl.

The fire investigator smiled and pointed at the broken window in front of them. ‘See that glass over there on the floor. It’s too far in from the window. I’d expect to see broken glass just below the sill, either inside or outside, unless there’d been a gas explosion. Then it would be all outside. See there, the rest of this window isn’t even cracked. Looks like your arsonist may have broken in through this window, Inspector.’

Or that’s what he wanted us to think, thought Carl, as he looked in through the broken window at the charred remains in the far corner. ‘Didn’t anyone notice this guy was missing during the evacuation?’

‘It was chaos when the brigade got here, Inspector. The fire ripped through the place pretty fast, which is why the roof in this part of the house collapsed. In a building this old the roof timbers would be as dry as kindling. I gather it wasn’t until they got to the hospital that the night nurse realised Bishop Knight was missing.’

‘Is everybody else accounted for?’ asked Carl.

‘They’re all in University. Most are suffering from smoke inhalation, but the couple we pulled out of this part of the building before the roof collapsed are pretty seriously burnt. I’m no doctor, Inspector, but I suspect you could have more than one death on your hands,’ said the fire investigator.

‘Where’s this night nurse?’ asked Carl.

‘In the hospital with the others. She’s pretty badly burnt herself. The fire chief reckons she deserves a medal. Apparently, the crew had to restrain her in the end for her own safety.’

Carl turned to Mike Jonas.

‘Guess it will be a while before you can tell me anything about Bishop Knight’s demise.’

‘I’ll let you know if the cause of death is other than smoke inhalation after the post-mortem. Not much I can do here given the state of the body. I’ll have the crime scene boys do what they can once the site is secure,’ said Mike. ‘I doubt we’ll get much but you never know. By the way, how’s Harry?’

‘He’ll survive.’

Dr Jonas smiled. Carl knew Mike was one of the lucky ones that didn’t suffer any ill effects from imbibing more alcohol than he should. Maybe it was simply because in his line of work he had consumed a lot more than most.

Carl went in search of Harry, and found him leaning up against a patrol car talking to Senior Constable Charlie Head.

‘Morning, Inspector,’ said Charlie. ‘I guess I can hand over jurisdiction if you’re here.’

‘Eventually, Charlie, but I’m leaving you in charge of the crime scene until we get the forensics. Have you had a chance to interview the neighbours?’

‘We’ve done the rounds, not that it’s done us any good. No-one saw or heard anything until the fire brigade arrived with their sirens blaring. They’re lucky the place had a monitored fire alarm, otherwise it would have burnt down without anyone noticing. Besides, the call came through at two in the morning, according to the patrol we relieved a couple of hours ago.’

‘Given the location, I guess the neighbours were all safely tucked up in bed at that hour. I know I was.’

‘What did you find out from the fire inspector, Boss?’ asked Harry.

‘He thinks the place was torched, and that the arsonist broke in through the window of the room where the body is, which I understand we think is Bishop Knight.’

‘Do you remember him, Inspector?’ said Charlie.

‘Can’t say I do, Charlie. What can you tell us about him.’

As a member of the St Vincent de Paul Society, with a nun for a sister, and a wife that worked as a social worker for the diocese, SC Charlie Head was Carl’s usual source of information on all things Catholic.

‘Bishop Knight,’ said Charlie, removing his cap and scratching his bald head, ‘was the bishop forced to retire when that child abuse scandal broke about ten years ago. They reckoned he was protecting some of those pedophile priests.’

‘Can’t say that I remember,’ said Carl.

‘It was in all the papers,’ said Charlie.

Carl looked at Harry, who shrugged his shoulders and then pulled out his iPad mini and made a note to research Bishop Knight.

‘Guess we’ll be doing some reading,’ said Carl. ‘Thanks, Charlie.’

‘What did Dr Jonas say about the body?’ asked Harry.

‘Too early to tell. He’ll have to do a post-mortem to determine if there is anything more to the bishop’s demise other than smoke inhalation. Either way, we’re dealing with a homicide and a crime scene that has been flooded with water and trampled over by firemen in big boots. I’m not confident we’ll get many clues as to who was playing with the matches.’

They watched as a white Ford Transit van negotiated its way through the crime scene cordon and parked next to the patrol car. Forensics had arrived.

‘Good morning, Inspector. Where’s Dr Jonas?’ asked the sergeant from Forensics, as the crime scene investigators climbed out of their van.

‘He’s around the back of the house, Sergeant. I’ll leave you with Charlie. Give me a call when you’re through and let me know if you agree with the fire investigator.’

‘Okay, Inspector.’

‘There’s not much we can do here for the moment, Charlie, and it sounds like we might have to wait a while before we can talk with the survivors. Come and see me when you get back to the office.’

They had almost reached the car when Carl’s smartphone rang. He threw the car keys to Harry while he listened to the caller.

‘Not a good day for the Catholic Church, Harry. Looks like they’ve lost another priest. Take us to St Frank’s Shelter in Mortlock Street.’