Murder Superior(79)
“I taught David in the eighth grade,” Reverend Mother General said. “He used the royal We then, too. David, you haven’t gotten yourself into a great deal of trouble. The Order has gotten itself into a great deal of trouble, and in the process put the Archdiocese in a very difficult position—”
“She used to talk like this back when she was teaching the eighth grade,” David Kenneally said. “Seriously, Mr. Demarkian, Reverend Mother has explained to me your reluctance to involve yourself in this matter under the circumstances and I can hardly say I blame you—”
“But I’m not reluctant to involve myself in this matter,” Gregor said. “I’m not reluctant at all. I spent all of last night making notes about what I saw happen, what I think happened, and how it might be all worked out. My problem is that I don’t know how I could possibly be of any help to you or to the Sister who was arrested, given the fact that—”
“That the police are being entirely too uncooperative,” David Kenneally interrupted. “Yes, I see. But you can consult, can’t you? That’s what you do. You consult. And we seem to need some consultation.”
“At least you could talk to Agnes Bernadette,” Reverend Mother General put in. “She really is distraught. She has every right to be distraught. Unless you think she actually was the one who—”
“No,” Gregor said. “I don’t think that. Let me ask you something. If I was to—consult, as you put it—do you think you could get some people to talk to me? Some very specific people?”
“I could probably deliver any practicing Catholic in this Archdiocese,” David Kenneally said, “appealing to courtesy if nothing else.”
“I could deliver the Pope,” Reverend Mother General said.
The Pope won’t be necessary,” Gregor said faintly. “What I’d like to do first is to talk to Sister Agnes Bernadette, not here but over at St. Teresa’s House. I want to go down to the kitchen where the food was prepared—I did understand that rightly, the food was prepared at St. Teresa’s House?”
“That’s right,” Sister Scholastica said. “The cold food, anyway. There were some hot dishes that were made other places and then brought over to be microwaved up.”
“But the chicken liver pâté was made there,” Gregor insisted, “and the fugu fish was stored there—”
“That is quite correct, Mr. Demarkian,” Reverend Mother General said. “And as for the fugu fish, possibly you should talk to the chef—”
“He only speaks Japanese,” Scholastica reminded her.
“Perhaps you should speak to Mother Andrew Loretta,” Reverend Mother General corrected. “That’s what I’ll do. I’ll get Sister Agnes Bernadette, Mother Andrew Loretta, and that chef over there at the same time. That way, you can question them all. Is there going to be anybody else you’re going to want?”
“I’m going to want quite a lot of people,” Gregor said, “but the only one you might have difficulty getting hold of is Nancy Hare.”
“Nancy Hare?” Scholastica looked shocked.
“I’ll get on the phone to Henry,” David Kenneally said with a sigh. “Oh you don’t know how I don’t like to get on the phone with Henry. I’ll try to have Mrs. Hare here in an hour.”
“Tell her she’s been granted an ecclesiastical annulment,” Scholastica said acidly. “She’ll be here in twenty seconds flat.”
Reverend Mother General ignored her. “Come,” she said to Gregor Demarkian. “Help me over to St. Teresa’s House. I like to watch you operate.”
The last time, Reverend Mother General had several times threatened to make sure he couldn’t operate at all, but Gregor didn’t think this was the time to mention it. With nuns, there were a lot of things there would never be time to mention at all.
3
LIKE CAVANAUGH STREET, St. Teresa’s House seemed to have decided not to let go of Mother’s Day. Gregor didn’t know if he was noticing more of the decorations today because the place was relatively deserted, or if little elves had come in the night and tied baby blue ribbons to every available surface, but the general effect was one of almost maniacal mother worship. Of course, Catholics didn’t “worship” Mary any more than Armenians did, but Gregor would have been hard put to make that point to anyone whose first experience of Catholicism was the long hall leading to the basement kitchen of this particular place.
MAY IS MARY’S MONTH,