Sidney Chambers and The Forgiveness of Sins (38 page)

Why was he doing this then? Was it vanity or was it the idea that he could put his Christianity to practical use? He explained to Geordie Keating that he was just passing.

‘Just passing, my arse,’ his friend almost spat. ‘Although, given the context, I probably shouldn’t be talking about that part of the anatomy.’

‘There’s no need to be crude, Geordie.’

‘You enjoy it really. I’m your dose of the real world.’

‘It is “too much with us; late and soon”.’

‘Never mind all that. What do you want?’

‘I’d like your file on the suicide of Luke Barnes. I presume there was an investigation.’

‘What do you want that for? It will probably be with your local boys.’

‘But you could get it for me more easily . . .’

‘I
could
. But what if I don’t want to?’

‘Is there something to hide?’

‘No, of course not.’

‘You say that, but why wasn’t I informed in the first place?’

‘Because, Sidney, this is not one of our inquiries, Adam Barnes is not a suspect unless you have just made him one, and I can’t simply make our library of crimes and misdemeanours at your disposal whenever you fancy.’

‘Then I’ll explain why it’s necessary.’

‘You are not going to start questioning the coroner’s verdict, are you?’

‘I don’t usually go against Jarvis, as you know . . .’

‘Then what do you want it for?’

‘I want to know where it happened and if the school did anything about it.’

‘The family reported it. Death by misadventure, I seem to recall. There was nothing mysterious.’

‘That may be, but I am interested in the psychology behind it. What drove a boy like that to take his own life?’

‘I imagine he was being bullied.’

‘That’s right.’

‘And I take it that you are going to show me that it was Mr Paine, the victim of the explosion, who was doing the bullying?’

‘That’s correct.’

‘Are you then going to try and tell me that the boy did not kill himself after all and that Paine is either an accessory to murder or even a murderer himself?’

‘I’m not sure I’m going to get that far. I don’t know yet. I need the file.’

‘And what are you going to do while we run around trying to find it in order to justify your little whim?’

‘The job I am paid to do.’

‘Which doesn’t include this?’

‘I don’t know, Geordie. There are times when I think that my job includes every blessed thing in the entire universe.’

In the breezy back garden, as they took the dry washing off the line and folded the bed sheets, Hildegard tackled Sabine on the subject of her ‘relationship’ with Canon Clough.

The au pair girl did not seem to think there was much to worry about. In fact, she was almost amused by her employer’s seriousness. ‘He buys me Babycham. He shows me nice places.’

‘But you have been to his house too?’

‘I do his ironing.’

‘I see. You have plenty of time to do
his
ironing while we have a Matterhorn piling up here.’

‘He has no one to help him. So I do it. Chris gives me money.’

‘Chris? You call him
Chris
?’

‘He likes it. He says it makes him feel young again.’

‘Don’t we pay you enough?’

‘It is good to have more. I would like to buy some more clothes. Some friends want to see the Rolling Stones in London. I hope I go.’

‘We’d need to talk about that.’

‘Chris says he can pay.’

‘He’s not thinking of coming too?’

Sabine giggled. ‘No. He is too old. I know he is old. Do not worry.’

‘And he hasn’t made any suggestions or asked you to do anything you don’t want to do?’

‘No. He just watches me.’

‘While you do the ironing?’

‘Of course.’

‘Really? Isn’t that boring for him?’

‘I make it interesting.’

‘I’d like to know how ironing can become interesting.’

‘I wear my underwear.’

‘And nothing else?’

‘It is hot. He likes it and I do not mind. I think it is funny.’

‘And does Canon Clough do anything while you are ironing?’

‘He tells me not to look. Then he goes to the bathroom. I finish my ironing. Then he pays me one pound. It’s good.’

‘No, Sabine, it is not good.’

‘What is wrong? You think he should pay more?’

A redbrick building that looked not unlike a Victorian school, Bedford Prison was opened in 1801 by the penal reformer John Howard. Alfred Rouse, responsible for the famous blazing-car murder, had been an inmate before being hung there in 1931, as had the A6 killer James Hanratty. There was little likelihood that the Reverend Kevin Warner would meet the same fate, but his sullen features, unshaven appearance and prison uniform made any idea that he had once been a clerk in holy orders seem improbable.

Sidney sat with him in the visiting-room in the presence of a guard. He asked the prisoner how well he knew Trevor Paine, whether he had been at the school at the time of the suicide of Luke Barnes and if he remembered Marcus Pearson.

‘Trevor certainly administered a good beating, but Luke Barnes encouraged him.’

‘You are saying that the boy wanted to be punished?’

‘He kept offending. He knew the consequences.’

‘You don’t think he was picked on?’

‘Sometimes boys are complicit in these matters, Canon Chambers. Perhaps Barnes sought the attention?’

‘I don’t see how you can know that.’

‘Most boys find ways to avoid it if they want.’

‘I’m not sure that they should be expected to do so. Were you responsible for similar punishments?’

‘I was asked to discipline the boys.’

‘Asked? You didn’t choose?’

‘It was part of my job.’

‘And did you enjoy it?’

‘That’s not the point.’

‘But did you?’

‘I don’t see why I should answer that question. I was doing my duty. If there were what you might call ancillary benefits . . .’

‘Such as pleasure . . .’

‘Then that’s all well and good.’

‘I think it’s neither,’ Sidney replied.

After a moment of silence, Kevin Warner began to confess. ‘I prefer something gentler if you must know.’

‘And did you find that at Millingham?’

‘It doesn’t do that much harm.’

‘It depends on who you talk to. What might be a passing moment in an evening, a day, a week or a month to a teacher can damage a boy for a lifetime.’

‘It happened to me when I was at school.’

‘And are you telling me that it hasn’t affected you?’

‘It can be quite loving.’

‘Not if the boys are under the age of consent and it is against their will.’

‘They knew what they were going along with, Canon Chambers.’

‘I am not sure they had much choice. Perhaps they consented for fear of something worse.’

‘I don’t think that was ever the case. They weren’t threatened.’

Sidney tried to contain his anger. This was a man who had made the erroneous and dangerous assumption that repetition normalised abuse. ‘I find that hard to believe. Why did Luke Barnes kill himself?’

‘I imagine someone found out.’

‘Or perhaps he thought that no matter what he did or who he told no one would do anything about it.’

‘Any father who had been to the school would have believed him.’

‘Only they wouldn’t have done anything about it. That’s the problem. It “never did them any harm”. Is that what you are saying?’

‘It is not for me to say anything. I’m here. I’m enduring my punishment.’

‘And you feel no remorse?’

‘I am what I am, Canon Chambers.’

‘What about Luke’s younger brother: Adam?’

‘I don’t remember him.’

‘Or Marcus Pearson?’

‘The pretty one? Oh, we all remember him.’ Kevin Warner smiled. ‘He was a very naughty boy. Played right along . . .’

‘Did he really?’

‘Then he stopped. I think Matron had her eye on him. As soon as he hit puberty she was all over him. There are always some that are lost to us.’

Sidney was appalled. He did not know what to say. ‘Don’t you have any regrets?’

‘I’m sorry I was caught.’

‘Is that all?’

‘As I have already said, what I did was loving . . .’

‘It was exploitation.’

‘That is not how I see it.’

Sidney persisted. ‘Trevor Paine caned boys until they bled. There is evidence.’

‘Pain can be a pleasure – for both parties.’

‘These boys were abused. Can you not see that?’

‘And can you not understand why these things happen, Canon Chambers? There is a history, a tradition even, in this behaviour.’

‘Then it’s one that should stop.’

‘You didn’t have it at your school?’

‘I knew it went on.’

‘Perhaps you weren’t pretty enough . . .’

‘I was lucky.’

‘It depends what you mean by luck. Some boys enjoy it.’

‘They are too young to know, and you should be too responsible to exploit them.’

‘It’s easy enough for you to preach about it.’

‘And it should be morally obvious enough to observe. You have a duty of care to young people in your charge. People like Luke Barnes . . .’

‘That boy had so many other problems.’

‘So it can hardly have helped when you all made the situation worse.’

‘You can’t blame us.’

‘I can, as a matter of fact, and I’m going to continue to do so until this matter is resolved.’

‘Some things are best kept private.’

‘This isn’t one of them.’

‘I can’t understand why so many people today want everything out in the open.’

‘Because they can’t trust what is hidden.’

‘There’s no need to make such a fuss about it all.’

‘There’s every need,’ said Sidney.

He had never felt such violence towards a man. What made it worse was that this was a man of the cloth. Kevin Warner had abandoned morality. What would it take to make him realise what he had done? Were some people beyond redemption?

No matter how understanding people thought he was, Sidney was determined to show that forgiveness had its limits. Mercy had to be earned. If it was not, then only judgement remained.

On 27th July, Geordie Keating was in an exceptionally good mood, having watched England beat Portugal 2–1 the previous day to reach the World Cup final. He was looking forward, he said, to teasing Hildegard about the thrashing West Germany were going to receive. Sidney then reminded him that her family originally came from Leipzig, now in the GDR, and that his wife was likely to be neutral in the matter since she took very little interest in football.

He had come down to Cambridge to join his friend in the Eagle. Once the two men had settled in the RAF bar with their pints, Keating cut to the chase. ‘Luke Barnes gassed himself,’ he announced as he handed over the file. ‘At home. In his mother’s kitchen. Not very nice for her.’

‘Or anyone else.’ Sidney opened the manila folder. ‘If his brother had anything to do with the explosion in the chemistry labs, caused by a surfeit of gas, it might be considered poetic justice.’

‘Gives it a bit of symmetry. You are arguing that this was an act of revenge rather than an elaborate prank?’

‘I suppose the death of Luke Barnes really was suicide?’

The inspector made one of his exasperated noises that Sidney always took to be theatrical rather than genuine. ‘Don’t start. He wasn’t drugged beforehand, it wasn’t staged, it happened at home, and there were no other marks on his body.’

‘But it should be motive enough for the explosion.’

‘And time for you to question the person responsible.’

‘I had better go back to see the mother. I have had a sense of dread about this ever since Prize Day.’

‘Adam Barnes was playing the piano at the time . . .’

‘But we know that does not really matter. He could have set the gas going hours before, either with or without Pearson.’

‘I’m sorry, Sidney.’

‘What for?’

‘I know he’s Hildegard’s protégé.’

‘That gives him no protection.’

‘Will you warn her?’

‘I’ll try to find a way of explaining it all.’

Sidney was delayed by his normal duties but found it hard to immerse himself in congregational concerns that were less than life-threatening. He tried not to intervene in a dispute between a mother and daughter and legislate over the length of the fifteen-year-old’s mini-skirt; he extended his sympathy to a wife who had found a note in her husband’s diary suggesting that he might be meeting another woman; and he felt sorry for someone who was so lonely she said that she felt like a Christmas tree that had been left out in February: half dead and too late for anyone to do anything about it.