Page 45 of The Chapel of Bones

Rob paused, catching his breath. ‘It’s those stairs. I wanted to let you know as soon as possible. Me and Ellie have just been interviewing those dognappers who were brought in last night. I reckon we’ve got enough to charge them.’ He hesitated, as though he was about to impart some momentous news. ‘They say they did it to get money for this animal place they run.’

Rob’s eyes travelled across the room and focused on Trish, who was busy typing on her computer. ‘I know I shouldn’t say this, but they seem quite genuine.’

‘They’ve been demanding thousands from innocent people for the return of their beloved pets, Rob. That’s illegal.’

Rob shuffled his feet. ‘They say it’s not that straightforward. They’ve been interviewed under caution and made formal statements, but they said they want to speak to the person in charge. I told them you and the boss were busy, but . . .’

Wesley stood up and walked over to Gerry’s office. The DCI was sitting at his cluttered desk, staring at a tall heap of paperwork with what looked like despair. In Wesley’s opinion, he was in need of a distraction.

Ten minutes later, they were both down in the interview room, face to face with the people who’d caused Trish’s family and others so much worry. The couple, Betsy and Barnaby Chalmers, had already been interviewed separately, but now, unusually, Gerry had decided to speak to them together.

‘Is that wise,’ Wesley had asked as they made their way downstairs.

‘Probably not, Wes. But the formalities are over. They’ve already been charged and I’d like to hear what they have to say for themselves.’

At first glance, the couple didn’t appear to be the usual criminal type. The man was in his early forties with a bald head and a neat ginger beard. The woman had dark curly hairand looked as though she’d be at home serving behind a stall in a farmers’ market. A down-to-earth, salt-of-the-earth sort of couple in matching gilets.

‘Look,’ Betsy began. ‘We’re terribly sorry, but we only did it because we were desperate. I can promise you that the dogs we, er . . . borrowed were spoiled rotten. They had a lovely time with us, I swear. It was like a little holiday for them.’ She looked from Wesley to Gerry with pleading, honest eyes.

‘The families you took them from didn’t know their dogs were being well treated,’ said Gerry firmly. ‘They were imagining all sorts. They were worried sick.’

‘I understand that,’ said Barnaby. ‘And I can only say we’re sorry. I’d like to explain why we did it.’

‘We’re listening,’ Gerry growled. He sat back in his seat, arms folded.

There was a long silence before Betsy began to speak. ‘We run a sanctuary – kennels where we care for homeless dogs – and the property’s about to be repossessed. We thought that if we kidnapped pedigree dogs, ones that are worth a lot of money, the owners could afford to pay to get them back and our little sanctuary would be saved. We weren’t too greedy.’

‘You asked the Waltons for two thousand quid. That’s a lot of money,’ said Gerry.

The pair bowed their heads. They looked genuinely ashamed of themselves.

‘I know, but when you think of how much people pay breeders for pedigree dogs . . .’ said Barnaby. ‘Look, we’re really struggling. We’ve tried all sorts, but jumble sales and selling home-made cakes at farmers’ markets hasn’t raised anywhere near the amount we need. Just think of the animals we look after. What are they going to do if we have to close down?’ He paused. ‘Or if we’re sent to prison.’ He clutched his wife’s hand and Wesley could see she was close to tears.

‘You should have thought of that before you embarked on a life of crime,’ said Gerry.

‘Desperate problems require desperate remedies, Chief Inspector. We felt we had no choice,’ said Betsy, sitting up straight and staring ahead nobly like a martyr about to be sent to the stake. ‘What’ll happen to us?’

‘It’ll be up to the Crown Prosecution Service to decide on the charges,’ said Wesley.

He saw tears running down Betsy’s cheeks as she clung to Barnaby’s arm. ‘Please. We’re sorry. We promise we’ll never do it again. Surely you’ve got more important things to deal with? Please can we go home? We need to see to our dogs.’ The plea sounded desperate.

‘There’ll be serious charges. Pet abduction. Extortion. However, at the moment, we’ve no objection to bail,’ said Gerry as he stood up. ‘You’ll have to sort it out with your solicitor and the custody sergeant. And if I were you, I’d start making arrangements for someone to take over at the sanctuary. Or we can contact the RSPCA if you like.’

The couple clung to each other, Betsy sobbing while Barnaby tried to comfort her. Their foray into crime had backfired badly. The people whose dogs they had taken had no way of knowing they were safe, and the couple had caused worry and heartache. The fact that it had been for a good cause would make no difference to the charges they would face. Even so, if what they claimed was true, Wesley couldn’t help feeling a sliver of pity for them. Pam would say he was getting soft in his old age.

Aleric Donnal’s notebook

6 May 2011

Today I borrowed a facsimile of a fifteenth-century bestiary from the archives in Exeter, the original being held at the University of Oxford. I wish to compare the illustrations with misericords in Exeter Cathedral and a number of local churches in an attempt to find a common pattern. But that is by the by. I find myself distracted by my forays into Fontescue Hall’s muniment room and Brother Anselm’s long-forgotten chronicle.

The story of Anselm’s sinner becomes more fascinating and I can honestly say that it has become a great distraction from my main research.

This entry from 1484 continues the narrative.

I have returned from Brittany to find that my brother’s neighbour’s wife, Isabella Garnet, is dead, strangled by her husband, it is said. Simon Garnet, Isabella’s husband, is reputed to be a bitterly jealous man and his servants discovered him standing over his wife’s strangled body. I pray for her poor soul.

My brother himself raised the hue and cry against Garnet, and as justice of the peace he will preside over his committal to the assizes.