DCI Warren Jones. Paul Gitsham

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СКАЧАТЬ place the previous night. Partially visible through the trees and the lingering mid-morning mist, the building took on a moody, almost sinister appearance. Even during daylight hours, Warren could see the fascination it would hold for some; he suspected that without a major upgrade to the site’s perimeter walls, they were fighting a losing battle against trespassers, with the previous night’s tragedy likely to increase the attraction.

      White and blue police tape demarked a cordon twenty metres beyond the chapel’s perimeter. As they watched, a couple of white-suited CSIs emerged from the tent protecting the chapel entrance.

      ‘Despite its older appearance, the chapel was actually built by Langton in the first years of the eighteenth century, over the top of what had been the original abbey’s undercroft. He took care to preserve the walls that originally formed the abbey’s kitchen and scullery and there is also evidence to suggest that the undercroft was used to hold illegal Catholic services. When Catholicism was no longer a crime, the chapel became Middlesbury’s first public place of worship for Catholics. We still serve a small, but loyal parish.’

      ‘How do worshippers access the chapel?’

      ‘We open the main visitors’ gate and let them through.’ Baines smiled tightly. ‘In anticipation of your next question, we take it on trust that they are attending the chapel, not trying to get into the site for free.’

      Warren filed the fact away for future reference. Although the policy meant that potentially anyone could have been wandering around the site, it also meant that everyone that entered would be caught by the cameras on the main entrance. He’d make certain to have the CCTV checked thoroughly.

      ‘So where does English Heritage come into this?’ asked Warren. The organisation’s distinctive red, crenelated square logo was prominently displayed on the signage leading into the abbey grounds.

      ‘English Heritage, or the Ministry of Works as it was back then, first became interested in the site in the Fifties. Langton and his descendants had lived here from about 1700 to the early years of the 1900s. They built a large house overlapping the ruins of the old infirmary, expanded the graveyard, resurrected the walled vegetable gardens and planted an apple orchard. Much of this was done before the 1791 act effectively decriminalised Catholicism, and so the house has a number of hidden rooms and priest holes. All boarded-up due to health and safety concerns now, of course,’ Baines said ruefully.

      ‘By the turn of the last century however, a combination of no suitable heirs and bad financial decisions meant the family were all but bankrupt. The house was abandoned, and aside from being requisitioned during the Second World War, was left empty.’

      ‘Which was when you took it over?’

      ‘Pretty much. The Catholic Church had always had an interest in the site, as it is part of our heritage and one of the few monasteries and abbeys founded by the Granadians, whose influence has largely disappeared even from their own region of Andalusia. However, the land had been seized during Henry VIII’s power grab and exactly who owned it was a bit of a legal quagmire. English Heritage were interested, but didn’t really want to do anything beyond preserve the ruins as they were. In the end a deal was brokered, whereby English Heritage would manage the upkeep of the actual historic ruins and run it as a visitor attraction, whilst the church would pay a symbolic one-pound annual rent and maintain the rest of the grounds, using proceeds from the gardens and other business ventures.’

      ‘Which is why all the staff working here are priests?’

      ‘Not all, but you are right that many of the staff are members of the church.’

      He gestured towards a large building just visible in the distance behind a clutch of trees. ‘That was the original family home built by Howard Langton. It was extended several times and was part of the land bought by the church. We didn’t do much with it at first, most of our efforts were focused on the original medieval abbey, and we ignored the later additions. But by the Nineties the church was starting to face a retirement problem. Lots of our clergy were getting old or ill, leading to a shortage in priests, as well as increasing the numbers of our brothers needing care.

      ‘We’d wanted a dedicated retirement home in the area for some time. Many of our priests have lived in the area for fifty years and don’t want to give up their ties to the community. Renovating the house was the most cost-effective option and it was opened in 2004; the name St Cecil is an anglicised version of Caecilius of Elvira, the patron saint of Elvira, modern day Granada. Now we have up to twenty priests at any time, ranging from those who are still quite fit and healthy, and still say Mass occasionally, to the fully-retired who need some day-to-day assistance. We are also providing hospice care for a couple of our brothers who are soon to receive their eternal reward. Those that are well enough are encouraged to help in the grounds. We also have three sisters who support us.’

      ‘Are any of the residents likely to have been outside in the grounds at the time of the fire?’

      Baines pursed his lips. ‘Unlikely, I’d have thought. I will ask Bishop Fisher of course, but most of our brothers typically rise before six to take part in the breviary and so tend not to stay up late. I don’t live in the house, so I knew nothing of what had happened until I was called at about a quarter to ten. The old warden’s house and orchard block most of the view of the chapel and graveyard so nobody in the house had any idea what was going on.’

      ‘Who is Bishop Fisher?’

      ‘Bishop Emeritus Nicholas Fisher was the driving force behind the conversion of the house into a retirement home. When he reached 75 and it came time for him to slow down himself, he opted to live amongst his fellow brothers and attend to their pastoral care, rather than take up residency somewhere more in keeping with his office.’ Baines smiled. ‘His Grace might be elderly, but he’s still very much in charge.’

      ‘So what is your role?’

      ‘I am, for want of a better term, our business manager.’

      Warren raised an eyebrow.

      ‘I was called to serve God later than many, after a career in business. Bishop Fisher asked me to make the community and abbey more financially self-sufficient. It’s why all the food in our gift shop and most of our café dishes are made from produce grown on our own grounds. We have an apiary producing honey and we’ve recently resurrected Middlesbury Abbey cider. Quite a kick, if you ever get the chance.’

      ‘Would I be able to speak to Bishop Fisher? And I’d also like to have a word with the groundsman.’

      ‘Of course.’ Baines looked at his watch. ‘Bishop Fisher will probably be in his office, I can get Rodney to join us there.’ He pulled out an iPhone, and gave Warren an amused glance. ‘It is the twenty-first century, Chief Inspector. We even have wireless broadband.’

      * * *

      The house was even bigger up close than it appeared and Baines was clearly very proud of the community he had helped build.

      ‘We have twenty-eight bedrooms spread over three floors. At present we have nineteen residents, not including Bishop Fisher. We are also fortunate to have Father Boyce, a trained medic, who helps care for our sicker brothers when the care assistants go home for the day, and Sisters Clara, Angela and Isabella who assist Father Boyce and are responsible for cooking and cleaning. The remaining rooms are guest rooms for visiting relatives. The Langton family liked to entertain and so the kitchen and dining room are big enough for us all to eat together as a community.

      ‘Below us is the basement. The Granadians СКАЧАТЬ