Vow of Evil Read online

  ‘Keys!’ Sister Joan fumbled for them and opened the stable door, surprising Lilith who stood half asleep in her stall.

  ‘Sister Gabrielle?’

  A cursory look convinced her that the other wasn’t there. She whistled Alice into the yard again, locked the door, and walked on into the shrubbery, moving the circle of light from her torch from side to side as she called,

  ‘Sister Gabrielle! Sister Gabrielle!’

  There were no answers save the rustling of leaves and her own footsteps crunching stone and gravel and bits of bark dislodged by the recent winds.

  Gardens, she thought, looked different by late twilight, the edges of the vegetable beds ringed with the first faint rays of the moon as it rose to vanquish the sun for a space, shadows purpling and creeping closer. She was aware of movement all about her as if the grass quivered in sympathy with the search. Even Alice, as if becoming aware of the situation, ceased gambolling and walked sedately at her heels.

  The apple trees and pear trees, denuded of their harvest, cast crooked shadows over the fruit bushes where blackberries still lingered.

  ‘Sister Gabrielle!’

  She raised her voice, hearing it small and diminished in the silent spaces. The cemetery displayed a row of simple white crosses, each with a bunch of autumn daisies laid upon the turf that covered the uncoffined graves of former sisters.

  ‘Sister Gabrielle!’

  Alice gave a disgusted yelp and headed for home.

  It was surely impossible for Sister Gabrielle to have walked so far. Not only impossible but in the highest degree unlikely, since she had frequently declared when, in the hotter months, the two oldest members of the community had taken short strolls in the grounds, that for her own part she saw no good in visiting the cemetery since before too long she’d be ending up there anyway!

  She bent her torch downwards and moved to the steps that ran down to the old tennis court. The moon was strengthening now and she could discern the shadows of the posts and the remnants of net that lifted in a sudden breeze and writhed before they sank down again.

  Had Sister Gabrielle gone over to the old postulancy? And if so, then why? What could’ve possessed her?

  Switching off her torch altogether she went down the steps and across the court, skirting the fluttering remnants of net and rope.

  The curtains were partly drawn and she could see Winifred Roye seated at the head of the table, eating what looked like fish and chips, her eyes fixed unblinkingly on her plate as she lifted forkfuls to her mouth.

  ‘Hello, Sister.’ The voice, sibilant and low, made her jump violently.

  ‘Mr Lurgan!’ She pronounced the name on a gasp.

  ‘Sorry if I scared you, Sister,’ he said.

  ‘Actually,’ she said, recovering her breath, ‘I fear I might’ve startled you. I was – I am so used to taking a walk here that I – I must consider it out of bounds in future I suppose. My apologies!’

  ‘You come whenever you like, Sister,’ he said.

  Now was the moment to enquire if he had seen Sister Gabrielle, but the words stuck in her throat. Instead she said lamely, ‘I’d best round up Alice. Are you—?’

  ‘Dawn forgot to fill up the tank,’ he said, ‘so she and Henry went on back into town to get some petrol. I decided to walk part of the way.’

  ‘But you bought the fish and chips—?’

  ‘Ate them quick and then went back down,’ he said. ‘The old trout’s on her second full helping. One day she’ll burst and we’ll have to clean up her crap!’

  ‘Yes, well, good evening, Mr Lurgan.’

  As she turned on her heel his voice came softly through the moon-striped dark. ‘I’d really like us to be friends, Sister. I don’t have many friends, most of them do you down anyway! But I wish – sometimes I just wish I could get away.’

  ‘From what?’ She felt impelled to ask.

  ‘From them.’ His voice had dropped to a murmur. ‘I’d give anything to be – I will one day, you just see if I don’t! You just see!’

  He had moved away silently before she could think of any reply, his thin frame slipping in and out of moonlight.

  She ought to have asked him if he’d seen Sister Gabrielle but something had held her back. She turned away from the small building and went swiftly across the tennis court. Sister Gabrielle would never have walked this far and if by some chance she’d managed it then why would she come this way anyway?

  The side gate was being pushed open. She moved into the shadow of the wall and watched them come through, he thickset and predatory, she leaning against him, her hair pulled back into a tail to display her round pallid face. They stood for a moment, caught in a beam of moonlight in a grotesque embrace, and then moved again towards the house.

  ‘Sister!’

  The whisper came from the top of the steps.

  The figure emerging from the shrubbery looked for one instant like the cartoon outline of a witch, veil whipped sideways, strands of hair silvered by the moonglow, cape billowing as the twigs snagged it, stick held almost parallel with the ground as if its owner intended to mount up and fly away.

  ‘Sister Gabrielle? What on earth—?’

  Sister Joan went up the steps to help her as the old lady straightened up.

  ‘Keep your voice down!’ Sister Gabrielle whispered. ‘Sound travels after dark.’

  ‘Sister, what happened to you?’ Sister Joan hissed back. ‘We are all out looking for you!’

  ‘Very silly of you,’ Sister Gabrielle said, planting the tip of her stick firmly in the earth and taking her younger companion’s arm. ‘I decided to take a walk, that’s all. It seemed like a pleasant enough afternoon so I took a stroll. I went a little further than I intended and sat down to rest.’

  ‘In the shrubbery?’

  ‘They ought to provide a bench there you know for the older members of the community so that they can rest before going back. I fell asleep as it was, happily ensconced in a rather convenient grassy hollow.

  ‘Then when I heard you calling I thought at first that I was still dreaming and it occurred to me that I might have caused a little trouble and inconvenience so I waited a few minutes and then I tried to get up, but getting up takes more energy at my age than sitting down. So! There you have it and I do beg pardon for causing any worry.’

  ‘I see,’ Sister Joan said, wishing she could believe every word of it.

  ‘As it is,’ Sister Gabrielle said, panting slightly, ‘I shall have Mother David and Sister Perpetua to deal with. Dear good people but of the opinion that elderly ladies like flowers should be stuck in one place and left there!’

  ‘It might have been more sensible to tell someone,’ Sister Joan said. ‘I mean, a walk is always a good idea but someone could’ve come with you.’

  ‘Do you never have moments,’ Sister Gabrielle said, pausing as they reached the enclosure proper, ‘when you want to be out in the open air and entirely alone? Oh, why should you have? You are forever driving here and riding there! And of course one can be alone within the house but to stride out like a girl again – I used to be quite an energetic walker you know.’

  ‘I’m sure you did.’

  Sister Joan paused to give herself sufficient time to catch her breath. Sister Gabrielle seemed to have taken no harm from her escapade but she felt strongly that something more than a desire for a solitary ramble had taken the older nun out.

  Cautiously she said, ‘If you feel like a walk again then I’d be happy to come with you. I wouldn’t intrude on your privacy. I could just stroll along behind.’

  ‘Picking daisies and calling Alice and me to fetch a stick in turns, I suppose?’ Sister Gabrielle snorted. ‘You’re a dear girl, Sister, but – but there are occasions when your practical sense seems to desert you. Now give me your arm again and I’ll face the music. And whatever you do, when I’m gone, don’t stick daisies on top of me!’

  ‘Orchids perhaps?’ Sister Joan suggested mischieviously.


  ‘The convent budget wouldn’t run to it,’ Sister Gabrielle said. ‘Slow down a little. Otherwise you’ll be ordering orchids before we both know it!’

  ‘You’ve found her!’ Sister Perpetua came striding down from the yard. ‘Gabrielle, where have you been? The entire house is in a state about you!’

  ‘Sister Gabrielle took a walk and fell asleep,’ Sister Joan said.

  ‘And you took your time finding her!’ Sister Perpetua said crossly. ‘Oh, and Alice dashed off again the moment I called her in! Someone is teaching her bad habits!’

  ‘I’ll go and fetch her,’ Sister Joan said, relinquishing Sister Gabrielle to the infirmarian’s charge.

  Alice would probably be back in the garden, hunting the odd imaginary rabbit. She turned the switch higher on her torch and called the dog’s name in as coaxing a tone as her growing irritation would allow. There were times, and this was one of them, when she heartily sympathized with Sister Perpetua’s sharpness of tongue.

  ‘Alice, will you—?’

  Alice came bounding up, tail waving energetically.

  ‘You’ve really disgraced yourself this time,’ she scolded. ‘Some fine guard dog you are! No, it isn’t time for a game!’

  Alice, unheeding, was pawing her skirt with frantic paws.

  ‘What is it?’

  Her attention alerted she stood still, tracing with her torch the path that Alice took as she bounded away again.

  ‘What is it, girl?’

  Alice, half returning, whined again and ran off.

  ‘All right! But if you’re just being silly you can forget all about any games tomorrow,’ she scolded, skirting a large patch of gooseberry bushes as she rounded a corner.

  Luther had been busy clearing up the garden, piling up twigs and dead grass obviously in the hope of a bonfire. The mound looked like the hump of a half-buried camel in the torchlight.

  Alice was engaged in tugging with her teeth at something that jutted out beyond the upper part of the heap.

  ‘What is it?’

  Sister Joan stooped to tug the object which resolved itself into a heap as the upper part of the mound slithered down.

  She shone her torch, a quiver of shock running along her backbone. Brass buttons glinted in the light against the dark serge of a jacket and skirt, a white shirt, muddied beyond hope, lay next to a dark hat.

  ‘Is anything wrong, Sister?’ Luther had plodded across and stood looking down at her.

  ‘Luther, how long have you been in the garden here?’ She stood up and looked at him.

  ‘I just got here, Sister,’ he said. ‘I was on the moor having a look round and I heard Sister Martha calling by the front gates. When Sister Martha calls I come running as you knows well, Sister. She said Sister Gabrielle were gone. I said, “Well, ’tisn’t likely she’s run off to be wed!” and then we heard Sister Perpetua calling she was found and safe so I came round to the back to check on my bonfire heaps. You’m gone and messed that one up proper, Sister.’

  ‘When did you make this heap?’

  ‘Almost a week since. I keep adding bits and pieces I find.’

  ‘You found these?’ She shone the torch downwards again.

  ‘No, Sister. That’s policeman’s belongings.’

  ‘You didn’t find them and put them on the heap here?’

  ‘No, Sister. I just said.’

  He had scowled, underlip jutting.

  ‘Right! Luther, will you stay here and keep guard? Don’t let a soul near it.’

  ‘If Sister Martha comes I’d not want to be refusing her.’

  ‘Sister Martha will be helping to look after Sister Gabrielle,’ Sister Joan said, more patiently than she felt. ‘Just wait here. I won’t be long. And don’t touch anything!’

  She took to her heels and flew up to the yard.

  ‘Sister Joan, where on earth have you been?’ Sister Marie opened the back door, her round face flushed. ‘Have you found Alice? She hasn’t come back here and Sister Gabrielle said she wasn’t with you and—’

  ‘Is Sister Gabrielle all right?’

  Sister Marie’s face dimpled into a smile.

  ‘Worn out but feisty as ever,’ she said. ‘Mother David is reading her the riot act in the parlour. What is it, Sister? You look a bit hot and bothered!’

  ‘I’m probably having a nervous breakdown,’ Sister Joan said grimly. ‘Sister, as soon as Sister Gabrielle comes out of the parlour ask Mother David to telephone the police.’

  ‘Something else has happened?’

  ‘The clothes the policewoman had are on one of the heaps in the garden. Luther’s standing guard! I need to find Alice!’

  She went out again, leaving Sister Marie open-mouthed, and stopped short as she saw a tall figure loom into view, a wriggling dog under his arm.

  ‘Padraic! Is Alice hurt?’

  ‘No thanks to her that she isn’t,’ he said. ‘She ran out almost under the wheels of my lorry about five minutes since.’

  ‘You were coming here?’

  The sudden suspicion that he might deal in more than a few illegal salmon stopped her short.

  ‘Looking for Tabitha,’ he said.

  ‘But surely—? I saw her on her way to the camp.’

  ‘She didn’t turn up. Gone dancing, or down at those slot machines I thought, but when it got dark I started fretting. There’s no bus up after the last school bus. I wondered if she’d gone walking on the moor since she wasn’t anywhere in town. I asked a couple of her friends but they hadn’t seen her since school came out. I left Edith with old Sarah, but she’ll be fretting soon if I don’t get back.’

  ‘Look, Inspector Mill is probably on his way here—’ Sister Joan began.

  ‘About Tabitha? You know I don’t hold with—’

  ‘The police will find her if she’s strayed away,’ Sister Joan said quickly. ‘It’s my belief she’s probably on her way back now, wondering what kind of reception she’ll get.’

  ‘I hope you’re right, Sister,’ he said moodily.

  ‘Oh, so do I,’ she agreed fervently. ‘Padraic, why don’t you drive up to the convent yourself and deliver Alice? I have something to do. You can ask if anyone has seen Tabitha since I saw her.’

  She handed Alice back into the lorry, turned and sped towards the gardens.

  Luther still stood by the mound of discarded junk, his stance as belligerent as if he expected an invading army to come storming through.

  ‘The police are on their way,’ she said, hoping that they were. ‘Stay here a while longer.’

  ‘Is Sister Martha all right?’ he demanded.

  ‘Sister Martha is just fine. You stay here now.’

  She went on past the cemetery and along the shrubbery. She was moving by instinct but there were times when one trusted one’s instinct.

  The sleek little car was just nosing to its parking stop outside the side gate. She traversed the tennis court rapidly and stood in the shadow of the wall.

  ‘Thank God that’s done!’ Kit Roye’s voice came to her clearly.

  ‘Think she’ll do, babe?’

  Her brother-in-law. Ian Lurgan, sounded slightly anxious as if he wasn’t sure what reply to expect or want.

  ‘Reckon so! And she’s a gyppo so the pigs won’t be too bothered about what she gets up to,’ Kit Roye said.

  ‘Leave it to the ones who know what they’re doing, eh?’

  ‘Yeah, babe!’

  ‘Stop calling me that!’ His voice was suddenly petulant.

  ‘You think Dawn’d mind? She’s probably shacked up with your dad by now if Henry hasn’t taken all the bed space. Oh, do get on!’

  The gate clanged shut. If either of them turned they would surely see her, standing motionless against the wall.

  The front door of the old postulancy opened, they went in, the door closed. The downstairs light went off and a feebler light shone from one of the upstairs windows.

  She moved to the gate, opened it silently and slipped out. The rear
seat window was open. Odd how the criminal never fancied that he might become a victim, she mused, shining her torch cautiously into the car.

  It was littered with cigarette ends, sweet papers, a couple of gaudy magazines. Across one open page a ribbon lay, pulled from a dark plait – she could see a few black hairs caught in the knot. It was whitish in the light of the torch but she knew that in daylight it would be red and that she had last seen it on the head of Tabitha Lee.

  FIFTEEN

  There was a sickness in her throat that she swallowed convulsively, turning and gliding swiftly along the outer walls of the enclosure until she reached the main gates and could take to her heels and run up the drive.

  The police car was parked at the steps and Sister Marie stood at the half-open door.

  ‘The police arrived a couple of minutes ago!’ the latter said. ‘Mother David says to go straight to the parlour.’

  Tapping on the parlour door she felt a tremor of anxiety. So much to tell and so little evidence to offer presented a formidable task.

  The two officers rose as she went in.

  ‘Dominus vobiscum.’

  ‘Et cum spiritu tuo.’

  The customary responses struck a familiar note in the strangeness.

  ‘Mother David, the uniform—’ she began.

  ‘Our lot sound as if they’re arriving now,’ said Sergeant Petrie.

  ‘Luther’s guarding the evidence,’ Sister Joan said.

  ‘In that case Sister Martha had better go with you,’ said Mother David. ‘I believe she handles Luther best. He isn’t happy when any members of the Force are around. Sister Joan, you’ll be relieved to hear that Sister Gabrielle has taken no hurt from her escapade though why she chose to wander off in the first place is a mystery! And where exactly have you been?’

  ‘Looking for Alice, Mother, but Padraic found her.’

  ‘And you found the uniform?’ Inspector Mill asked.

  ‘I gave Sister Gabrielle into Sister Perpetua’s care,’ she said patiently, ‘and then I went to put Alice on the leash. She was tugging at something on one of the refuse heaps. Luther wandered up while I was there and I told him to stand guard. Then I came here to tell Mother David and then I went out again because Alice had run off. She was almost run over by Padraic’s lorry.’