Free Cherringham: A Deadly Confession by Neil Richards Page B

some of the promising links onto a separate screen and started to go deeper.
    And soon she had the story — and it wasn’t a pleasant one.
    St. Elrich’s was a Catholic hospice in the North of England that had closed suddenly in the nineties.
    News stories at the time hinted that there had been a high-level investigation by the Church — first locally, then from Rome — into the hospice’s finances.
    And a key trustee of that charity? Father Eamon Byrne.
    Liam O’Connor was one of the priests in a nearby town.
    In digitised copies of the local newspapers of the time, Eamon himself was interviewed. But the priest gave nothing away about the real reason for the demise of the hospice.
    “Disagreements about strategy” were noted by the paper. “Failure to post accounts” and “an alarming lack of financial oversight” were also cited about the charity which was dissolved a year later.
    Even before the hospice was closed, Eamon was transferred overseas “to continue doing God’s work in the places most stricken by poverty” as the Church spokesman diplomatically put it.
    Sounds like Father Byrne was being quietly taken out of the firing line.
    They were covering up and protecting him.
    She couldn’t find any more references to Liam in the local papers — he just seemed to disappear too. Maybe he was transferred to another church? Sarah found a Catholic register of priests and parishes but it was as if Liam O’Connor had never existed.
    Eventually she found a small official note, dated just a month after the closure of the hospice, approving his request to leave the Church.
    Out of interest she kept on Liam’s trail over the next few years.
    A degree in Business Studies.
    An MBA.
    A job in the City with a hedge fund outfit called Faulks Capital.
    She recognised that name: back in London Faulks had been talked about in awe by some of her ex-husband’s friends as the very model of a perfect money-making machine.
    From priest to capitalist in ten easy years. Interesting.
    What had really happened at St. Elrich’s Hospice? And could it have something to do with St. Francis’s Convent?
    Something very fishy here, thought Sarah.
    She stared at the press photo of the hospice on her screen, hoping somehow to find more clues.
    “St. Elrich’s huh?” said Grace, getting up from the floor and standing next to her. “That’s … a coincidence.”
    Sarah felt her pulse quicken — as it always did when she felt that a case might just have moved into another gear.
    “Coincidence?” she said, turning and looking at her assistant. “What do you mean?”
    “Father Byrne had six different bank and building society accounts — and one of them is called ‘The Knights of St. Elrich’.”
    “You don’t say…”
    “And whoever the knights are — they’re loaded. Or at least they were. Up until last week there was nearly a hundred grand in there.”
    “But there’s not now?”
    “All gone — in one withdrawal,” said Grace. “What’s interesting is where it goes to after it leaves the knights.”
    “You going to tell me?” said Sarah.
    “Might do,” said Grace. “You think it’s time for that cake?”
    “Tell me what you know, clever girl — and I promise I’ll not only double the cake ration, I’ll get some of their chocolates too.”
    “Deal,” said Grace.
    “Information first — then chocolate.”
    “Okay,” said Grace. “So, the Knights of St. Elrich Instant Withdrawal Account was first created in 2003, with its main signatory — yes, you guessed it — one Father Eamon Byrne.”
    Sarah sat back with her notepad and started to make notes.
    Whatever Jack found at the racing stables — this was surely going to be part of the jigsaw…

14. The Gallops
    Jack sped along the main Cheltenham road in his little sports car, letting the Sat-Nav do the work.
    This was a new road to him and he loved the gentle hills and long curves, woodland and broad fields flashing by in the spring