Page 22 of The Mercy Chair

‘Should we focus on the victim this time, ma’am?’ Poe said. ‘I know we usually profile the perpetrator, but in this case finding the killer might be easier once we’ve identified a motive.’

‘And we’ll hammer the forensics and the witness statements,’ she agreed. ‘Meet you in the middle somewhere.’

‘Sounds good.’

‘What time are you seeing the bishop?’

Poe checked his watch. ‘Soon.’

‘Will you be asking him about this?’

‘Oh, I havelotsof questions for the Bishop of Carlisle,’ he said.

And I might be able to get answers to something else at the same time, he thought.

Chapter 18

Presumably to make it easier for the Royal Mail, the Bishop of Carlisle’s official residence was called Bishop’s House. It was on Ambleside Road in Keswick and Poe was soon prowling for a parking space. There were so many bed-and-breakfast signs, the residential streets looked more like Blackpool than rural Cumbria. None of them had vacancies, he noticed. The streets were nose-to-tail with cars and before long Poe was cursing the convention like an angry local. After fifteen fruitless minutes, he gave up and drove to the town centre. He pulled up outside Greggs then turned in his seat.

‘Make yourself useful, Snoopy,’ he said, passing him a ten-pound note. ‘We might not get another chance for a brew tonight. I’ll have a black coffee, Tilly will have a green tea, and you’ll probably want a fizzy pop. I’ll park in the Theatre by the Lake’s grounds, and we’ll meet you back here. The bishop’s is only a five-minute walk and it’s a nice evening.’

‘But—’

‘But what? You wanted to be involved –thisis being involved. And trust me, if I run out of caffeine I become sarcastic and judgemental.’

‘Why can’t Tilly—’

‘Because Tilly’s useful and you’re an intern.’

Poe waited for Linus to get out before putting the car into gear and navigating out of Keswick. Instead of turning left towards Derwentwater and the Theatre by the Lake, he turned right on to the A66 and headed towards the motorway.

‘Poe! Poe!’ Bradshaw yelled. ‘You’ve forgotten Linus!’

‘Didn’t he say we should pretend he wasn’t there?’

‘He did, Poe.’

‘Well, that’s much easier to do when he isn’t in the car.’

‘But where are we going?’

‘Carlisle Cathedral.’

‘Why?’

‘That was the bishop’s office on the phone earlier,’ he said. ‘The meeting’s been moved there.’

‘But what about Linus? He won’t know where we are.’

Poe said nothing. He didn’t think it would take Linus long to find them. And if he did, the first piece of the puzzle would slot into place.

Chapter 19

Although Carlisle Cathedral was colossal by Cumbrian standards, it is actually the second smallest of England’s ancient cathedrals. It started life as a Norman priory church in 1122, and due to Carlisle’s proximity to the Scottish border, and the city’s consistently shifting allegiances, it still bore the scars of its long and bloody history.

Lying within the Abbey precinct, a gated area of Castle Street, the cathedral was constructed from red sandstone, discoloured to black on parts of the exterior, and was typical of the Norman architectural style: large round piers, round arches, and small round-headed windows. Like most cathedrals, the architectural floor plan of the building was in the form of a cross.

As he always did when he was in Carlisle’s historic quarter, Poe ignored the East Window, the largest Flowing Decorated Gothic window in England, and instead stopped underneath the south-facing outer wall. He looked up. Nestled high in among the stone faces of the traditional medieval gargoyles and grotesques was a policeman. A twentieth-century addition to the fabric of the cathedral, the grotesque had a policeman’s helmet, complete with star badge. It was a monument to PC George Russell, a Lake District cop, who was shot and killed after a skirmish with an armed thief at Oxenholme railway station. He gave the copper a nod and silently wished him well as he stood guard over the citizens of Carlisle.

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