Church, then returned to the parlour.
Once more they laid out the files and
started to go through them meticulously. Gatto had brought with him
photographs from Embleton’s file and Maryam confirmed that was the
man who had been praying in the Church before. She didn’t mention
anything other than noticing him ‘because of a smell of old
books’.
‘And Father Jones knew him as Keith
Pargiter?’
‘Yes. He runs a book shop, old books.’
‘Well, if it is him, it’ll be interesting to
see if he has an old Qur’an in stock. Or rather, missing.’
‘Didn’t Inspector Barham ask for the
antiquarian book shops to be looked into, to see where the copy of
the Qur’an could have come from?’ Iqbal asked Gatto.
‘Yes, she did, son. Keep asking questions
like that and you’ll do okay.’ Iqbal almost blushed but held it off
by staring hard at some paperwork.’
‘And you got a strange feeling off him, did
you, Miss Michael?’
‘I never said that, Sergeant Gatto, did
I?’
‘No, you didn’t, what was I thinking?’ His
wry tone fooled no one. Maryam sipped some coffee and looked placid
and neutral. Gatto excused himself and went outside to phone
headquarters in private to see if the book shop had already been
visited. Iqbal stayed and took them through what they’d uncovered
in their own inquiries.
‘Shortly after Embleton was issued the ASBO
for the mosque conversion, he was admitted to hospital. He was
suffering from malnutrition and dehydration. There were marks on
his body, self inflicted.’
‘What sort of marks?’
‘He’d whipped himself with something that
had metal on it. One of the wounds on his back had become infected
and it was the blood poisoning that caused him to collapse in Marks
& Spencer’s. After treatment, he was voluntarily admitted to a
psychiatric unit. No idea of the diagnosis or treatment, still
looking.’
Maryam sighed. ‘It is rather unfortunate
that Mr Pargiter appears to have been born in the wrong
millennium.’
‘Sorry?’
‘Never mind, Detective, carry on.’
‘He came back into police view about two
years later, when he was the subject of a complaint from a
synagogue in Golders Green. He had been trying to convert to
Judaism and things were not going well. I’m not sure what that
means. He’d been asked to leave the synagogue in question and not
return.’
‘And he kept coming back?’
‘Yes, Bishop, he did. I spoke to the local
officer who worked on this case. It was only when Mr Embleton was
threatened with an ASBO that he backed off.’
‘Did they know of the prior one?’
‘Yes, they did. They’d been looking into his
background and it popped up in the system. PC Shirley Deal, who
phoned me back, remembers him as it was such an odd case. Although
still registered at his Peckham address, he was staying with
friends in Golders Green. Intellectual sorts with a huge house;
always had lots of people staying. She went round there and spoke
to him, pointed out his previous ASBO and that they’d apply for
another one for the synagogue if he kept pushing it. From her
account, he left the area there and then.’
‘When was this?’
Iqbal looked at his notes. ‘About three
years ago.’
‘Well,’ said Maryam, in a tone that made
Gatto feel as if he was talking to his Chief Inspector. ‘I think we
need to do two things. Firstly, establish that Keith Pargiter and
Geoffrey Embleton are the same person, and then prove a connection
between him and Jason Briggs.’
She’d been expecting it to be a slow and
tedious affair. Police work was, despite the film and television
versions of everything happening within two days. However,
circumstances moved quickly once her report had been received in
Rome. It only took twenty-four hours for Rome to return the
information that Keith Archibald Pargiter had been accepted into
training for the priesthood in 1964, when he was twenty years old.
He had been carefully nurtured by his family, who had presented
Once more they laid out the files and
started to go through them meticulously. Gatto had brought with him
photographs from Embleton’s file and Maryam confirmed that was the
man who had been praying in the Church before. She didn’t mention
anything other than noticing him ‘because of a smell of old
books’.
‘And Father Jones knew him as Keith
Pargiter?’
‘Yes. He runs a book shop, old books.’
‘Well, if it is him, it’ll be interesting to
see if he has an old Qur’an in stock. Or rather, missing.’
‘Didn’t Inspector Barham ask for the
antiquarian book shops to be looked into, to see where the copy of
the Qur’an could have come from?’ Iqbal asked Gatto.
‘Yes, she did, son. Keep asking questions
like that and you’ll do okay.’ Iqbal almost blushed but held it off
by staring hard at some paperwork.’
‘And you got a strange feeling off him, did
you, Miss Michael?’
‘I never said that, Sergeant Gatto, did
I?’
‘No, you didn’t, what was I thinking?’ His
wry tone fooled no one. Maryam sipped some coffee and looked placid
and neutral. Gatto excused himself and went outside to phone
headquarters in private to see if the book shop had already been
visited. Iqbal stayed and took them through what they’d uncovered
in their own inquiries.
‘Shortly after Embleton was issued the ASBO
for the mosque conversion, he was admitted to hospital. He was
suffering from malnutrition and dehydration. There were marks on
his body, self inflicted.’
‘What sort of marks?’
‘He’d whipped himself with something that
had metal on it. One of the wounds on his back had become infected
and it was the blood poisoning that caused him to collapse in Marks
& Spencer’s. After treatment, he was voluntarily admitted to a
psychiatric unit. No idea of the diagnosis or treatment, still
looking.’
Maryam sighed. ‘It is rather unfortunate
that Mr Pargiter appears to have been born in the wrong
millennium.’
‘Sorry?’
‘Never mind, Detective, carry on.’
‘He came back into police view about two
years later, when he was the subject of a complaint from a
synagogue in Golders Green. He had been trying to convert to
Judaism and things were not going well. I’m not sure what that
means. He’d been asked to leave the synagogue in question and not
return.’
‘And he kept coming back?’
‘Yes, Bishop, he did. I spoke to the local
officer who worked on this case. It was only when Mr Embleton was
threatened with an ASBO that he backed off.’
‘Did they know of the prior one?’
‘Yes, they did. They’d been looking into his
background and it popped up in the system. PC Shirley Deal, who
phoned me back, remembers him as it was such an odd case. Although
still registered at his Peckham address, he was staying with
friends in Golders Green. Intellectual sorts with a huge house;
always had lots of people staying. She went round there and spoke
to him, pointed out his previous ASBO and that they’d apply for
another one for the synagogue if he kept pushing it. From her
account, he left the area there and then.’
‘When was this?’
Iqbal looked at his notes. ‘About three
years ago.’
‘Well,’ said Maryam, in a tone that made
Gatto feel as if he was talking to his Chief Inspector. ‘I think we
need to do two things. Firstly, establish that Keith Pargiter and
Geoffrey Embleton are the same person, and then prove a connection
between him and Jason Briggs.’
She’d been expecting it to be a slow and
tedious affair. Police work was, despite the film and television
versions of everything happening within two days. However,
circumstances moved quickly once her report had been received in
Rome. It only took twenty-four hours for Rome to return the
information that Keith Archibald Pargiter had been accepted into
training for the priesthood in 1964, when he was twenty years old.
He had been carefully nurtured by his family, who had presented
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