Nun of That (A Deadly Habit Cozy Mystery, Book 1) (7 page)

“Not this time.” I shook my head. “But if we find anything, I'll tell him.”

“Over dinner,” Gemma added. “Not a hamburger, either. Something nice.”

“There’s that new restaurant that’s serving all organic produce,” Janet said helpfully.

“I said someplace
nice
.” Gemma waved off Janet's idea with a shake of her head and a grimace. “A romantic dinner is not a spinach shake.”

I was exasperated. “We're solving a mystery,” I reminded them.

“Yes we are.” Janet's eyes shone with excitement.

“The Case of the Clueless Lovebirds,” Gemma said.

“The Mystery of the Hot, Wandering Reporter,” Janet chimed in.

I groaned. Of all the times for these two to get along and work together.

Chapter Eleven
.

We were in Gemma’s BMW speeding toward the convent. I was nervous, whereas Gemma and Janet appeared to be excited. Janet was less excited, however, when we took a detour down a tiny lane that ran to the base of the hill overlooking the convent.

“Watch the walled garden the whole time, and see what they do,” I said, as Janet hopped from the car, binoculars in hand. I watched with envy as she sprinted up the hill with ease. Perhaps there was something to eating ghastly-tasting, healthy food, after all.

Gemma turned the car around, and soon we were back on the lonely road leading to the convent. “Now, what are we looking for exactly?” Gemma asked me again.

I shook my head. “We’ve been over this a hundred times; just look for anything suspicious, anything at all. The main thing is that I’m hoping the other nuns do something when the Reverend Mother is busy with us.”

“Yes, and I told you a hundred times not to get your hopes up. What are they likely to do? And why would they do it in the walled garden? I think you’re clutching at straws, Rose.” She shook her head, and cut the engine. “Besides, this is costing me a hundred dollars, and it won’t be a tax deduction.”

“I’m sorry,” I said in a small voice.

Gemma shrugged, and hurried off as fast as she could in her stilettos, while I walked after her.

As I rang the ancient bell, a shiver ran up my spine as the sound echoed. “It’s like being in a horror movie,” Gemma whispered, and I glared at her.

The bell was followed by a sound that sounded like an alarm, the same sound I had heard on my previous visit to the convent.

Sister Maria duly opened the door. “Rose Tyler,” she said, unable to mask the look of surprise on her face.

“No, it’s Rose Taylor,” I said. “Rose Tyler used to be on Dr. Who.” How did she know my name anyway? I thought I’d only introduced myself as
Rose
on my last visit. “And this is my friend, Gemma Farrentina,” I added. “She would like to make a donation. Gemma, this is Sister Maria of, um, of…”

“Sister Maria of Saint Leonard,” she said, looking at Gemma. It was clear that Sister Maria’s face had lighted up at the mention of the word
donation
. “Won’t you come in?”

Gemma made her way awkwardly over the uneven tiles, her stilettos catching every now and then. Just as we reached the reception room door, Gemma’s stiletto caught and she fell forward, throwing out her arms to save herself. In doing so, she knocked Sister Maria hard into the edge of the door.

“^%$#!” Sister Maria exclaimed.

I gasped, and looked at Gemma, who struggled to her feet quickly.

“What did you say?” Gemma asked Sister Maria, who was visibly shaken, and rubbing her elbow.

“I said,
Sheep
!” Sister Maria said. “All we like sheep have gone astray,
we have turned, every one, to his own way, and the Lord has laid on him
the iniquity of us all.”

Gemma and I just stared at Sister Maria. “Yes,” Sister Maria continued, “your fall reminded me of a sheep that has gone astray.”

Well, I had to give her marks for quick thinking, but I know what I heard, and it certainly wasn’t
sheep
.

Sister Maria was still talking. “Please come in and take a seat. I’ll fetch tea.” She ushered us into the room, and then closed the door behind her.

“Did you hear what she said?” Gemma whispered.

“I sure did,” I said, “and it sure wasn’t
sheep
.”

Gemma pursed her lips. “I know.”

“Perhaps she’s not really a nun, either.”

Gemma shrugged. “Nuns are only human.”

“Not
that
human,” I said. “Besides, when I was here with Adam, he said that the normal thing is for the head nun to call for another nun to bring the tea, but Sister Maria herself did it last time, and she’s doing it again now. That’s not standard procedure. Also, Adam said that the cake is always something that the nuns have baked themselves, but last time, it was shop bought pastries and Tim Tams.”

“Tim Tams!” Gemma beamed.

I let out a sigh of frustration. “Concentrate, Gemma, seriously.”

The door opened, and Sister Maria entered, carrying a tray. She set it down on the round table in front of us. I shot Gemma a significant look, and wiggled my eyebrows when I saw the plate of Tim Tams.

Gemma rummaged in her bag and fished out one hundred dollars in cash. She handed it to Sister Maria. “Just a small donation,” she said.

Sister Maria looked genuinely grateful. “Thank you so much. You do realize that we are not a registered charity in Australia,” she said, “so it will not be a tax deduction.”

“Yes, I realize that all too well,” Gemma said with a sigh, “or I would’ve given you more.”

I rolled my eyes.

“I’ll write you a receipt,” Sister Maria said, standing up.

Gemma waved her back down. “No, please don’t trouble yourself. A receipt is no use to me.”

“Well, it’s very kind of you,” Sister Maria said, with a tight-lipped smile.

Gemma gave Sister Maria her best fake smile in return.

I nibbled on a Tim Tam, uneasy in the ensuing silence. The odds were against Janet seeing something anyway, so the longer we gave her, the better. After a few minutes of discussing the weather, Gemma stood up. “Thank you for your hospitality, Sister Maria. We’d better be going. I just came to make the donation.”

Sister Maria followed us to the door, keeping her distance this time, as Gemma made her way carefully over the uneven, tiled floor. It was with apparent relief that Sister Maria shut the heavy, oak doors behind us, and before we reached the car, the alarm, or what I assumed was an alarm, sounded again.

Once we were in the car, I turned to Gemma. “Why did you get out of there so fast?” I asked her. “We needed to give Janet as much time as we could.”

Gemma pouted at me. “There is only so much inconsequential small talk one can make. Besides, I was afraid she’d ask me why I made the donation, and then I’d have needed to come up with a likely reason on the spot.”

I had to agree.

“She needs to call in a decorator,” Gemma added. “That place was so drab. Plus, did you smell the mothballs? She must keep her dress in mothballs.”

“It’s a habit,” I said.

“Bad habits can be broken,” Gemma said, as she started the engine.

I rolled my eyes, and texted Janet.
Coming to get you now
.

By the time we arrived at the bottom of the hill, Janet was waiting for us, her face flushed. She scrambled into the car, and Gemma floored it, the acceleration throwing me back against my seat. I leaned over to look in the back seat. “You saw something?”

“Yes!” Janet exclaimed. “You’ll never guess what!”

I held my breath. When Janet didn’t speak again, I said, “Well, out with it! The suspense is too much!”

Janet leaned forward. “There was no one in the courtyard thingy at first, but then, six nuns came out.”

I interrupted her. “What did they do?”

Janet motioned for me to be quiet. “They all sat around a table, and they were all smoking. Some of them had their legs up on the table.”

Chapter Twelve
.

As soon as I got home, I called Adam, and when he didn’t answer, I sent a text asking him to come over. I was in two minds about the events of the day, and I wanted nothing more than to find out his thoughts on the matter. I had been so certain before that Sister Maria was not involved, and that she was unaware that her novice nuns were, in fact, bank robbing criminals, male ones at that, but now I wasn’t so certain about anything anymore.

Time passed, and not a word from Adam. I was growing more anxious, part of the anxiety being a concern as to what he was doing. Was he with a girlfriend? I had no idea. “It’s none of your business,” I said aloud to myself, and Bernard looked at me, clearly thinking I had said, “Would you like to be fed again?”

I sighed and topped up his bowl, and then got to work on the kitchen dresser I had bought for a song at the auction. It did not have any sign of furniture borer, to my relief, and what’s more, when I sanded the top coat of white paint, a lovely teal color showed underneath. This was going to take less work than I had thought.

I busied myself working on the dresser. I mixed up some chalk paint, by mixing Plaster of Paris with water, and then stirring it through some teal colored paint. I painted the inside of the dresser, and then got to work on the outside. I scraped some of the white paint with a paint scraper, and then stood back to admire the effect.

I now just had to wait for the paint to dry before I wallpapered the inside of the cabinet. As there was a crack running vertically down the center of the dresser, I had decided to wallpaper just one side of the crack, and to rip the wallpaper on its edge, and then finish it at the crack, as an effect. The other side would simply be painted. I had some lovely duck egg blue wallpaper with silver tones through it, just perfect for what I had in mind.

There was still no word from Adam, so I gave up, made a light dinner, and then went to bed.

The following morning, I was up earlier than usual. I checked my phone, but no messages from Adam. I went down to Top Town Café, got my latté, and headed back, half hoping to find Adam on my doorstep. To my dismay, he was not there.

It was a while until opening time, so I got stuck into wallpapering the one side of the kitchen dresser. It came up better than I’d hoped. After I finished, I dusted all the furniture. When I reached the last piece, I looked up and saw Adam peering in the window. My heart gave a loud thump.

I hurried over to the door.

“Hi,” he said with a smile, as he stepped through the door.

I smiled in return. “Come in. I tried to call you yesterday afternoon.”

“I was asleep,” he said.

I was surprised. “Asleep? At that time of day?”

Adam rubbed his forehead. “I’d been up all night, literally. I spent all night and most of the day making notes and trying to figure out what I’m missing. It’s become obvious to me that the Reverend Mother must know that the nuns are the bank robbers.”

“Oh,” I said, as I motioned him to follow me into the back room. “Actually, that’s why I called you. Two friends of mine went with me to the convent yesterday to see if we could find some evidence, and we did in fact find something that was out of place.”

Adam’s eyes widened. “What do you mean?”

“The Reverend Mother tripped over during our visit, and said something that I wouldn’t think nuns are allowed to say. She swore aloud, but then tried to cover it up by saying she was quoting the Bible.”

“That’s unusual.”

“And that’s not all,” I said, waving my hands in the air. “Gemma, my lawyer friend, came with me into the convent, and I’d sent my other friend, Janet - you know, the one who owns the gym - with binoculars up to the hill overlooking the walled enclosure. She saw the nuns - and there were six of them, by the way - sitting around a table. Some of the nuns had their legs up on the table, and they were all smoking.”

Adam paced back and forth, without uttering a single word. “Well, some nuns do smoke, so that in itself is not too bizarre, but it is strange that they had their legs up on the table. It does sound like the behavior of men rather than nuns. Also, it’s strange that the Reverend Mother would swear.”

“Coffee?” My Nespresso machine had heated up.

“What? Oh sure, sorry.”

“Have a seat.” I pointed to one of two comfortable chairs around the little table in my back room.

“How come you have your coffee machine down here behind your store?” Adam asked. “Why isn’t it upstairs in your apartment?”

“Because I only have coffee in the mornings,” I told him, “and it’s an incentive for me to come downstairs and get to work. I go and get one from the Top Town Café, and then have one or two here.”

Adam’s jaw dropped. “What, seven days a week?”

I laughed, and handed him his coffee. “No rest for the wicked.”

His expression changed. “Speaking of wicked, there was never any mention of women in the Shadow Gang,” he said. “They did only catch six of the members, but someone broke them out of the prison van in transit to Long Bay prison. That makes a seventh gang member at the very least. Who knows how many of them there are!”

“So, what do we do next?”

Adam finished his coffee before answering. “Can you take the day off? Or at least the morning?”

I was puzzled. “What do you have in mind?”

“I think our best bet is to go stake out the convent. I’m not sure how long we’ll have to sit there before we see anything. Perhaps we could stake it out this morning, and then on a regular basis, until we do find something. I assume there’s a convent car?”

I nodded. “Sister Bertrand drove an old, light blue Holden; it has to be at least twenty years old,” I said. “I haven’t seen it around town, though, not lately. An old car like that stands out. And back to your original question; I could take a few hours off.”

“Is there anywhere near the convent where we could park and wait, yet still see the car pass by, when and if it moves?”

I thought about the side lane on the way to the convent. “Yes, I know the perfect place. We can park under the trees, and they’ll obscure us from the convent road.”

“Awesome,” Adam said. “Let’s go.”

“What, right now?”

“No time like the present.”

I shrugged, and quickly scrawled
Back later
on a piece of paper, and stuck it on the inside of the front door.

Two hours later, and I was feeling tense. I was on edge, as I was stuck in my small car with a very attractive man. Perhaps such a thing wouldn’t make most women tense, but I’d lived in a small town for years, and attractive, single men were a rarity, to say the least. I had not dated in ages. I was also tense as there had been no sign of the convent car, and I didn’t know how long I could continue to sit in this car, twiddling my thumbs, so to speak.

“I think they’re moving,” Adam blurted, making me jump. I started the car and waited. The old, convent car drove by the intersection.

I slowly drove down the road after it.

“Shouldn’t you go faster?” Adam asked me.

I shook my head. “No. The road that goes past the convent rarely has any traffic, so whoever’s driving will notice any cars that come up behind them. Closer to town, more roads join this one, so by then the driver won’t think anything of more traffic.” I looked over at him and smiled.

The convent car headed toward town, but then eventually turned off on the little road that ran to the highway. When it reached the highway, I was able to catch up, following with only one car between us. “They’re heading north,” I said. “How far do we follow them? What if they’re headed for Brisbane?”

Adam chuckled. “Well, we won’t follow them quite that far. How about we follow them as far as Guyra?”

“Sure,” I said, but right then, the convent car pulled off the highway into the airport road. “The airport,” I said, stating the obvious. I followed the car at a distance again, and it bypassed the parking area of the public airport, going further on to the cargo section and the crop dusting planes, where it stopped.

I drove along the parallel road inside the parking area, and parked a few hundred feet away to ensure that we wouldn’t be seen.

Two nuns stepped out of the car.

“Well, they don’t appear to be taking any flights,” I said. “And I know that’s a restricted, ten minute only parking area, so clearly they’re just here for a quick stop or something. Maybe they’re meeting with someone.”

Adam shot me a look. “Yes, you’re probably right about the first part, but who would they be meeting at an airport?”

I simply shrugged, and watched as the nuns walked around to the back of the car, and opened up the trunk. They pulled out two large suitcases and carried them over to the airport fence.

“Come on,” Adam said, breaking into a run. “Let’s go into the terminal building. I know they have huge windows, and we should be able to see what’s going on.”

“Wait,” I said, as I hurried to catch him. “The windows in there face the wrong direction.”

By the time I got inside the small terminal, Adam had figured that out for himself. Luckily for us, the Qantas plane to Sydney was boarding, so we joined the well wishers saying goodbye to passengers, and filed out the front of the building onto the enclosed area. From the lawn, we had a good view of the cargo section.

A man with a trolley walked up to the two nuns, who had placed the suitcases on the ground. He tried to lift one of the suitcases onto the trolley. He pulled and yanked, but barely lifted it from the ground. Another man came to help, and the two of them were able to lift the suitcases onto the trolley.

“That was weird,” I said. “Those nuns must have some serious muscle. Did you see how easily they lifted those suitcases, and then those men had trouble lifting them?”

“It’s looking more and more like those nuns are men,” Adam said, a little too loudly, and a nearby woman stared at him.

“What do we do now?” I asked, as we made our way back to my car.

Adam took my arm. “Look, they’re leaving. Let’s go!”

Just as I turned on the ignition, the nuns’ car drove off. They took a right onto the highway. “It looks like they’re going back to town,” I said.