Mersey Murder Mysteries Collection - Books 7-9

Chapter 2-1

Andy Ross was in the middle of his usual nightly check around the house, ensuring all the windows were closed and the front and back doors were securely locked, and ready to join his wife, Maria, waiting patiently for him to join her in bed.

Wearing a slinky dark blue, knee-length satin nightdress, and nothing else, the couple had enjoyed a peaceful, romantic dinner, which Maria had prepared. They"d started with a good old-fashioned prawn cocktail, which they both loved, then enjoyed grilled pork loins with apple sauce and served with sautéed potatoes and green beans. This was followed by one of Maria"s favourite desserts, a simple but delicious bowl of cherry vanilla ice-cream.

The meal over and the dishes placed in the latest addition to the kitchen, a brand-new dishwasher (which Maria had been wanting for ages), they"d spent an hour or so cuddled on the sofa. Lighting was dim as they"d listened to romantic classical CDs. Feeling suitably relaxed, and ready to fall into bed for a night of what both hoped would be unbridled passion, Maria had left Andy to see to the night security routine, while she made her way upstairs.

Done, Ross breathed a sigh of satisfaction, and was about to make his way upstairs when his mobile phone rang. Cursing, he picked it up from where it had sat silently all evening on the hallstand and looked at the screen. The ringtone was one he"d selected for work, and he was shocked to see the name and number of Detective Chief Superintendent Sarah Hollingsworth displayed before his eyes.

“Oh God, now what?” he asked out loud, wishing he"d ignored the ringing phone, but knowing he couldn"t have done that in all good conscience. He pressed the green "talk" button. “Ma"am” he said, the one word enough for now.

“Detective Inspector, I"m sorry to disturb you at home. I hope I haven"t interrupted anything important?”

Thinking of Maria lying upstairs, primed and waiting for the aforementioned night of passion, what could he say except, “Oh no, nothing important, ma"am. How can I help you?”

“I"ve rung you myself as DCI Agostini is away on his brief holiday until tomorrow, as you know. We have a situation that could need careful handling, and one that most definitely requires the services of your team.”

“Andy? Is everything alright?” Maria"s voice shouted from the bedroom.

“Fine, darling, just a work matter,” he called up as he returned to his phone conversation. “Sorry about that, ma"am. My wife was just wondering who"s on the phone.”

“That"s okay, but listen. This is potentially a very sensitive and tricky case. Have you ever heard of the Priory of St. Emma?”

Wracking his brains, Ross was forced to reply, “I can"t say as I have, ma"am, no.”

“Well, you"re about to become extremely familiar with it. They appear to have had a murder committed on their grounds, one of their own monks, apparently.”

extremely“Monks?” he replied, a little slow on the uptake for once.

“Yes, Detective Inspector, monks; you know, habits, tonsures, sandals and so on, that kind of thing.”

“Sorry, ma"am, yes, I"m aware of what a monk is. I just didn"t realise we had any around here.”

“Well, now you know. The priory stands on the site of what was once St. Basil"s Monastery, and two of their members discovered the body of one of their colleagues on a path in the grounds a couple of hours ago. Uniform branch responded to a 999 call and found the body exactly where it was discovered, confirmed the suspicion of foul play, and contacted CID. While all this was going on the Prior, Brother Gerontius, who"s apparently a friend of the Chief Constable, made a phone call and the next thing I know, I receive a call instructing me to place my best people on the case. That means you and your team, DI Ross. Like I said, I apologise to you and your wife if you had plans, but I hope you can understand the position I was placed in.”

It was as if the DCS knew exactly what Andy and Maria Ross had planned for the next hour or two, or more, but he gritted his teeth and replied politely, “Of course, ma"am. I"ll call DS Drake and have her meet me there immediately. Do you know if the ME has been called yet?”

“Good man, and yes, I understand CID immediately summoned help and Doctor Nugent was on his way when I spoke with them. He"ll meet you on site.”

“Okay, I"ll get on to Izzie Drake and get to it,” Ross replied, already mentally phrasing the way to break the news to his partner, who"d be enjoying her evening with her husband Peter and would be equally irate at having her night interrupted by a call-out. “Just one question, ma"am.”

“Yes?”

“Er, where is St. Emma"s Priory?”

“The correct name is the Priory of St. Emma, but I suppose St. Emma"s Priory will do, shorter anyway. It"s at Grassendale, easy enough to find. I"m told it"s signposted.”

“Thanks. Right, better get going then. I expect Doc Nugent will be there already and he"ll love chewing my ear out for arriving late.”

The Chief Super actually chuckled slightly at Ross"s remark, a first as far as he could remember.

“I"ll expect an update sometime tomorrow,” Hollingsworth stated. “I know you"ll have plenty to do initially, so I"m not expecting a report in the morning. Call me in the afternoon and let me have a progress report, okay?”

“No problem,” Ross replied and was left holding a silent phone as Hollingsworth hung up, leaving him to get on with the job. First things first, though. Andy Ross slowly climbed the stairs and sheepishly poked his head round the bedroom door, where Maria sat propped up against the pillows with a resigned look on her face.

“I take it that call means no passionate s*x for us tonight, then?

“Afraid not, darling. That was DCS Hollingsworth, of all people. Oscar"s on holiday and she"s taken direct charge of the team. Seems the Chief Constable had friends in Godly places.” He drew a deep breath and smiled regretfully. “There"s been a murder at a place called St. Emma"s Priory in Grassendale. Got to get there right away. The Prior, head guy, is a mate of the Chief Constable"s and had asked for the best people available.”

“And that"s you and the team presumably?”

He nodded ruefully.

“It"s a double-edged sword, being the best, eh?” Maria was grinning now. Fame at work, but a severe case of c****s interruptus at home. And by the way, it"s called The Priory of St. Emma, Andy.”

“Not you too,” he said, and then, “never mind” as Maria was about to ask what he meant.

Ross quickly changed into suitable attire while calling his partner, Detective Sergeant Izzie Drake on his hands-free phone as he did so. Her response was predictable.

“Oh s**t, boss. Just when we were about to …”

“Don"t tell me. If it"s anything like what me and Maria were about to get up to, I can understand your frustration, Peter"s too.”

“Actually, we were about to go for a late night walk in the moonlight, as it"s such a nice evening,” she laughed.

“Oh, right,” said Ross. “Very romantic.”

“It might have been,” Drake replied gruffly.

“Sorry, Izzie,”

“Don"t sweat it, Boss. Tell me where to meet you.”

After giving Drake directions to the priory, Ross quickly kissed Maria, gave her a loving hug, and was soon out of the door. The journey from his home in Prescot to the priory in Grassendale would take twenty minutes to cover the twelve miles or so to the destination.

Never having visited a priory before, he wasn"t sure what to expect when he arrived, but as he mused on his way to Grassendale, murder is murder, wherever it happened, and his job was the same as always: to discover and apprehend a killer. The fact that this one had been committed on what was technically God"s own property might add a few complications. He"d just have to wait and see.

As he drove, he placed calls to Sergeant Sofie Meyer and Detective Constables Derek McLennan and Nick Dodds. He"d leave the rest of the team to sleep. They could be brought up to speed in the morning. As he thought about it, he made one more call—he remembered that DC Sam Gable had been brought up as a Roman Catholic and her knowledge of the Catholic religion might be useful from the start. Gable was still awake and sharing the evening with her boyfriend, Ian Gilligan, a detective sergeant on the Greater Manchester Police Force. She was happy enough to be called in. It was part of the job when working for the Merseyside Police, Specialist Murder Investigation Team.

Ross smiled to himself as he realised that the only officers he hadn"t dragged out of their homes were Detective Sergeant Paul Ferris, the team"s computer genius, and newest member, DC Gary "Ginger" Devenish, so-nicknamed because of his head of fiery red hair. At least they, and the team"s administrative assistant Kat Bellamy, would be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed in the morning.

As the Chief Superintendent had indicated, the Priory of St. Emma was signposted as he drove through the leafy, affluent suburb of Grassendale. Ross was impressed by the number of large villas and mansions that had been built in this quiet area of Liverpool. He turned into the entrance: two large stone pillars that held a pair of old but serviceable cast iron gates, painted forest green. Atop each pillar stood a pair of kneeling concrete angels, each with its hands joined in prayer. A wooden sign sunk into the grass verge beside the gates announced that he was about to enter The Priory of St. Emma.

In the moonlight, the outstanding feature of the priory was without doubt the tall spire of the rebuilt church, which the builders had succeeded in giving the original look of a gothic church. With moonlight now glowing almost incandescently behind the building, it seemed to Ross to take on a mean and brooding countenance. The few buildings situated around a sort of courtyard resembled a random collection of barrack blocks, such as might be found at a remote military establishment, where conformity to any form of regular military design had been thrown out with the previous week"s rubbish.

Bringing the car to a halt, he stepped from the vehicle and quickly surveyed his surroundings, such as could be made out in the absence of external lighting on the site. Fortunately, every light in every building appeared to be switched on, and as the lights registered in his brain, Ross became aware of headlights following the narrow, winding asphalt drive he"d manoeuvred a few minutes earlier.

He assumed, correctly, that this would be his partner, Detective Sergeant Izzie Drake, and a minute later, she pulled up beside him in her new car. Her husband, Peter Foster, had insisted that her faithful Mini would be too small to drive comfortably as her pregnancy advanced, and this was the first time Ross had seen the couple"s latest purchase.

“Very nice,” Ross said, as soon as she alighted from the two-year-old, 1.6-litre. Vauxhall Astra estate car.

“Thanks. Not very sporty looking, but Peter thought it would be a more practical vehicle once the little one arrives.”