Page 11 of Her Lips Are Sealed

She hadn’t picked up on anything when she’d spoken to the cleaner. He’d genuinely been shaken up, so he was either very good at hiding his true feelings or what he’d told her was the truth. He hadn’t embellished anything, just told her how he’d found Rachel. No long-winded stories about anything, which is usually what happens when someone is lying. But Morgan didn’t feel like arguing with Marc right now. Morgan found that when people lied, they made up elaborate tales to back up their lies. The truth was usually more matter of fact. Did that mean that her neighbour was lying because he’d told her about them watching true crime documentaries together? She doubted that he hadn’t lied about the cat, as the proof was there on his doorstep.

Ben had passed the evidence bag to Marc who was reading it out loud to himself.

He looked from Ben to her. ‘What the hell is this?’

‘Note from the killer, he already has his next victim going by what he’s written on there, so we need to move fast.’ Morgan waited for him to answer her, but he was staring at her.

‘I think you need to see the body, boss. Plenty of gear in Wendy’s van.’

Marc muttered something unintelligible under his breath and strode towards the van to suit up.

Ben gave Morgan the note. ‘Better give that to Wendy to get processed for prints, DNA and handwriting analysis in case he kills again. Please let there be DNA from the lips.’

She smiled at him. ‘We just said that inside. We might get lucky this time.’

Ben didn’t answer her because they both knew the likelihood was small. It looked so easy on the TV shows where all the forensics came back in hours and the suspect was nearly always already on the database with a previous arrest record. In reality, the forensics took weeks at best unless fast tracked. Living in such a remote area with a high turnover of tourists meant that there was a lot of travellers who came in for a few days, then left again taking their evidence with them. To have the track record of arrests that they did was quite an achievement.

‘Has anyone been to speak to the vicar?’ Morgan asked.

Ben shook his head. ‘Not yet, do you want to do that and get it ticked off the list?’

She smiled. ‘On it right now.’

St Martin’s church cast its limestone shadows over the front of Rachel’s flat. The gate was around the corner, on Bowness Road, and she headed towards it. The whole area was quiet because of the scene cordons; and there was no sign of life as she walked into the church. It was dark inside, and empty. It was a stunning little church first built in 1203, but it burned down and was rebuilt in 1483, which blew Morgan’s mind. Its beautiful stained-glass windows filtered the afternoon sun through them casting shadows on the rows of pews.

‘Hello, is anyone around?’

Footsteps at the far end of the church echoed as whoever it was approached from wherever it was they were. An older woman appeared, short platinum hair contrasting sharply with her black velour Juicy Couture jogging suit. ‘Can I help you?’

Morgan smiled at her, the woman smiled back, her watery, blue eyes crinkled around the edges and instantly Morgan felt as if this was the kind of woman who’d make an amazing Nanna. Morgan would bet she was an expert at baking, could knit a cosy cardigan and would give the best hugs. ‘I hope so. I guess you’ve seen the police activity out there? I’m Detective Morgan Brookes.’

The woman shook her head. ‘No, I’ve been busy trying to arrange enough cover for the summer fair. What have I missed?’

‘I’m afraid there’s been a serious incident at a flat across the road. Does the church have CCTV?’

Again the woman shook her head. ‘Not that I know of, but you’d be better off speaking to the vicar about that. I deal with the events and that’s about it.’

‘Is he or she around?’

‘No, it’s his day off. Well, technically he’s only covering while our vicar is on the sick.’

Morgan knew without a doubt that it was going to be Theo and hoped that she was wrong, the last thing she wanted was to drag him into this.

‘What’s his name, do you know where I can find him?’ She had her fingers crossed behind her back that she would say Simon or Paul.

‘It’s Theo, but I don’t know where he lives.’

‘It’s okay, I do. I’ll phone him now, thank you so much. Were you here yesterday?’

‘I’m always here, was here until about nine last night. I know it’s supposed to be an honour doing the Lord’s work, but sometimes it’s very stressful and unrewarding and before you ask if I’ll get my reward in heaven, I absolutely do not believe in that load of old rubbish. I help because I have nothing better to do with my time and I’ll tell that to anyone who asks.’

Morgan laughed, her voice echoing around the vast space, she couldn’t help it. The woman grinned at her.

‘I’d never make a nun that’s for sure.’

‘I didn’t catch your name?’

‘Josie Sullivan.’