Cleo had often asked herself why the bishop had not wanted
to be addressed by his name. Why was the name James on the contract and not
that of John or Robert? Was it James who had studied theology? If he was one of
the brothers, was he now sure that he would not be rumbled? Or – and this was
the most relevant question - was James McDuff even the real bishop under some
kind of pressure? Had his brothers or some other influences forced him into being
like he was? Was he being blackmailed? If so, by whom and for what reason?
Cleo phoned Gary Hurley to tell him about her finds at the
bishop’s office. She was treated to a lecture about breaking and entering.
“Stuff it Mr Hurley,” Cleo said. “Do you want the documents
or don’t you?”
“Yes. Can you drop them in to HQ?”
“I can’t take the time, but I’ll get someone else to.”
“Thanks, Miss Hartley and don’t take my garbage about
breaking and entering to heart.”
“I wasn’t going to,” retorted Cleo.
In the meantime the police had also ascertained that James
McDuff was the name of the officially appointed bishop. They had obtained a
copy of various documents he had signed on behalf of the diocese and the
signature on them was identical with all the other written samples they
compared. Gary felt bound to pass that information on. Cleo felt bound to tell
Mr Hurley that there were actually three brothers who could probably pass for James
McDuff. Hurley was not pleased that she knew that. He had kept that bit of
information back. It was thanks to Rick that she knew about the birth of
triplets in Scotland all those years ago. She did not tell Hurley where she got
her information and he did not ask. Hurley and Hartley were not getting on well
together.
When James McDuff was approached in his hospital bed for
questioning – and he was being guarded by a police rota as much for his own
safety as to ensure that he did not get away - he was uncooperative,
complaining that he was in too much pain. There was nothing for it but to wait
until his condition improved, the doctors insisted. But the bishop was
play-acting. When the bishop’s secretary got to the office next morning, having
decided not to take the week off, after all, since her boyfriend had to work
anyway, who did she find sitting as his desk, but the bishop himself in a
jovial mood?
“Ah, there you are, Chrissie,” he greeted her. “I’m going to
close this office until after Christmas and you can take a holiday until you
hear from me.”
“Are you well enough, Sir?”
“Of course I’m sure. I’ll be out of town for a while. Church
affairs, you know. I won’t need a secretary. Go home and enjoy yourself, my
dear.”
With Chrissie safely out of the way, John McDuff, who had been
phoned by his brother and given instructions about finding and removing any
suspicious documents, and had fooled Chrissie into believing he was her boss,
sorted through all the bishop’s papers with a view to disposing of anything
associated with property deals. It would be worth his while. The McDuffs did
not do one another gratuitous favours.
John McDuff could not judge whether anything was missing, so
he would to report to his brother James that all the documents he thought might
be relevant had been removed, not actually saying who removed them since he had
not found anything incriminating. It was just his bad luck that on her way to
the bus stop Chrissie bumped into a plain-clothes detective who had been
assigned to make a brief assessment of what had to be done at the bishop’s
office and seal the premises.
“I think you came out of the bishop’s office just now,
didn’t you?” the detective said.
Chrissie didn’t think there was anything strange about that
question.
“Yes, Sir. The bishop has given me a holiday until after Christmas.
He’s going away on business and doesn’t need a secretary.”
“‘So he told you that, did he?”
“Yes, Sir. He’s still in the office sorting out the papers
he needs for his trip.”’
“Is he indeed?”
“Yes, Sir. Anything wrong?”
“No, nothing wrong. You just run along.”
As soon as the girl was out of earshot, the detective took
out his mobile phone and summoned assistance. The bishop was laid up in
hospital, so the man in the office must be a look-alike to have fooled his secretary.
Minutes later a police commando was able to arrest him without a struggle. A
feather in their cap and more headlines for the tabloids.
Though gratified at hearing about the arrest – and Mr Hurley
had been kind enough to phone and inform her - Cleo still thought they had all
overlooked something. On the spur of the moment, she asked if they had any
photos of the bishop’s driver and could she come to HQ and look at them.
A brief glance at the two photos of the McDuffs known to the
police and Cleo confirmed that they were interchangeable as far as looks were
concerned. The photo of the bishop’s chauffeur, taken by a security camera in
the hotel foyer showed a burly looking man with a full beard and wearing thick
horn-rimmed glasses. He had shoulder length hair. He was altogether a bit scruffy
and Cleo wondered how he had managed to get the job of driver. Unless...
She looked at the photo of the bishop again.
“Can you modify this?” she asked.
“On the computer screen or with a marker?”
“Can you change things on photos digitally?”
“Madam, we have the newest computer programmes. What do want
me to do?”
“Can you put glasses on the bishop’s nose. Some like the
ones on this photo of the driver? And a beard like the driver’s? And lengthen
his hair.”
This took hardly any time at all. The IT expert was even
able to mount one photo on top of the other. All the photos were printed, including
a brand new one of the guy they had picked up at the bishop’s office. Now it
was unmistakeable. You could hardly tell one man from the other. A DNA test
would prove without doubt that the driver they knew as Jim Cross was in fact Robert
McDuff, the third brother. Or was he John? Or even James? An exchange of names
within the trio would be almost impossible to prove.
The following morning the newspapers again graced the first
page with the latest on the McDuff case, but this time there were four photos (two
of the guy calling himself Jim Cross).Were all three into a fiendishly clever
plan. Cleo now believed that the bishop really was the genuine article,
corrupted or abetted by his two siblings.
***
The days following the identification of the three McDuff
brothers produced no further sensations and slowly things returned to normal,
which for Dorothy and Cleo meant a concerted effort to get the arrangements for
the impro theatre show finalized. Bafflement about the McDuff brothers would
not get that evening staged. As the show was to be part of the run-up to
Christmas and was replacing the usual entertainment, it would have to be worth
watching. In the light of what had being going on elsewhere recently, it was
admittedly difficult to focus on the event.
Happily, Mr Parsnip was able to dismiss the issue of St
Peter’s closing. He had been reassured on best authority that no such thing
would happen. For the coming Sunday the vicar had therefore composed a very
special sermon that was broadly based on the adage that home is where the heart
is. He would expose the bishop’s misdeeds from the pulpit and promise his
congregation that his heart was and always would be in Upper Grumpsfield.
It should be added that writing this sermon had moved him to
tears and he could feel the missionary fervour overcoming him. He would have to
practise hard if he were to retain control of his emotions during the service.
Was Edith’s disappearance less than two weeks earlier? She
had completely recovered her memory and was feeling much better, a condition
that was boosted by the knowledge that the evil bishop was now out of
circulation, having been moved to a prison hospital where he would continue his
convalescence behind bars, his phantom pains having been disclosed for the sham
they were.
Clare stopped worrying about her sister and was glad to
stand in for Cleo at the library during the investigations into the McDuff
crimes, a process that was still ongoing.
Supported by Mr Hurley who had offered Cleo his first name
in recognition of her work on the McDuff case, Cleo decided to investigate the
property developers, something the cops could not do alone under a blanket of
secrecy. Her theory was that a McDuff brother who was not the bishop had worked
there and gained inside knowledge. The company had not actually committed a
crime unless they blackmailed the bishop. Gary agreed. He know understood that
Cleo was a private investigator, and though he disapproved of women being
private eyes, he was prepared to go along with this woman he had never met wo
was plainly intelligent enough to do a good job. On her part, Cleo was curious about
what Gary and his colleagues could achieve. She hoped they would use their
databases to uncover any previous crimes known to have been committed by one or
other of the McDuffs. The third brother, killed in the road accident, was
beyond redemption, so any investigation into his affairs would be purely to tie
up loose ends. Was he the ruffian the third triplet was claimed to be? The two
surviving Mcduffs were unlikely to reveal anything about him that they could
keep hidden, especially their true identities. A heightened version of loyalty
among thieves, Cleo mused, the biggest question of all being “Who did what?
