Cuthbert's Way (DCI Ryan Mysteries, #17)(49)
Ryan frowned darkly. “In the first instance, that’s nothing to make light of,” he snapped. “And, in the second, there’s no evidence to suggest this man was anything other than a well-regarded member of his community, well-liked by his pupils.”
He decided to address the elephant in the room, which was on all of their minds.
“Look, I know what people think of, when they think of the Catholic Church and young choirboys, or whatever, but we need to remain professional and clear-sighted when making decisions about matters than can affect those who are still living. Yes, there has been a lot of cause for concern as to safeguarding practices on a global scale, which is a source of great sadness and regret for all involved—especially those who were victims of predatory crimes. However, when approaching a case, we need to consider each individual set of facts on their own merits, and be sure not to tarnish all with the same brush. Am I understood?”
There were nods around the room.
“Good. Coming back to Father Jacob, there was nothing obvious to help us understand what might have motivated his death, other than a general connection to St. Cuthbert,” Ryan said. “When we visited the scene, at the invitation of the SIO, it was on the basis that Jamieson’s death might have had some connection with the death of Edward Faber—whose murder is the only other recent torture case on the shared police database. Whilst Phillips and myself agree there are definite similarities, we were unable to disclose to the SIO the full details of Operation Bertie, and of how both Faber and Jamieson’s deaths are connected to the theft of Cuthbert’s cross. Now that the Chief Constable has authorised the decision to re-open this matter, there is no need for further secrecy, and we will communicate and cooperate with North Yorkshire CID at the earliest opportunity.”
Ryan clicked again and, this time, a picture of a small, red gospel book came onto the projector screen.
“This is a gospel book of St. John,” he told them. “More commonly known as the ‘St. Cuthbert Gospel’, on account of it having spent the best part of eight hundred years inside the man’s coffin, resting beside him. It carries cultural and literary significance but, for our purposes, it’s important because, yesterday afternoon, a man posing as the late Father Jacob stole this piece from the British Library, causing grievous bodily harm to one of their conservationists in the process. They evaded the police and made for King’s Cross, where we believe they were able to conceal themselves on board a train bound for the North. We expect CCTV footage to come through today but, at this stage, we suspect that Father Jacob was tortured and killed for information in his possession, and we suspect that information relates in some way to the gospel book.”
“You mean, because it’s one of Cuthbert’s relics?” one of the PCs asked.
“Possibly, but if we were dealing with a group of people whose only intent was to gather up all of Cuthbert’s relics, I’d query the timing; we believe the cross was switched for a replica three years ago, whilst renovation works were underway in the exhibition galleries at Durham Cathedral, and a lot of careful time and effort was put into that operation. When the British Library reacquired the gospel book from Stonyhurst College, in Lancashire, they made an agreement with Durham Cathedral that it would be displayed in London and Durham—if they planned to steal it, why not do so while it was more accessible, in Durham? Why wait three more years, and take it in highly risky, opportunistic circumstances?”
He lifted a shoulder.
“It’s more likely the information from Father Jacob was new, and important, and created an urgent imperative to steal the gospel book as quickly as possible.”
“Did you say the book used to be at Stonyhurst?” Yates asked.
Ryan nodded, and looked to Lowerson, who nodded his confirmation.
“Yes—why? Have you thought of something?”
“Potentially,” she said, scrolling quickly through her phone. “When I read the BBC news report about Jamieson’s death this morning, there was a quote from one of his old teaching colleagues, from back in the day…here we go. It says they taught together at Stonyhurst for fifteen years, which means he would have been there while they still had the gospel book.”
Ryan smiled. “Now, that is an interesting coincidence, and adds further weight to our theory about the book carrying some special significance, beyond the obvious fact of its historic importance.”
He turned to look up at the image of the book and wondered how a collection of written words could wield so much power.
CHAPTER 25
While Charles and Eve took their granddaughter for a stroll in her pram, Anna dusted off her laptop and settled down to the business of researching St. Cuthbert’s Gospel. As a senior lecturer at Durham University, her specialism was in early pagan history in the North East of England, rather than early Christian history—but no historian looking to understand the regional landscape could understand one without the other, and it was impossible not to know something of the facts and traditions surrounding its patron saint. Besides, Anna grew up on the remote island of Lindisfarne, where Cuthbert had been a bishop in the late seventh century, and near to the tiny island of Inner Farne, where he had spent much of his time as a hermit and where he’d eventually died.
Automatically, she reached for her hair, intending to tie it back from her face, before remembering she’d been forced to cut most of it off.