Vow of Evil Read online

  ‘Do you still think that?’

  ‘I think it’s more than a practical joker,’ she said slowly. ‘Things have been happening recently – small things, not in themselves important perhaps save to the people they most nearly concern, but nasty, spiteful things – the lurcher poisoned, Alice lured away – she has never wandered off of her own accord, the fledgings—’

  ‘What fledgings?’

  Briefly she told him about the birds.

  ‘You don’t think Luther—’ Sergeant Petrie queried.

  ‘No, not Luther! He’s harmless, wouldn’t hurt anyone or anything. Someone else sneaked in and killed them. Luther buried them to save Sister Martha from being upset.’

  ‘There’s another thing on your mind,’ Inspector Mill said. It wasn’t a question.

  She thought of the spoiled books in the postulancy, of the documents that Father Malone had wanted repaired. Though those incidents were not under any seal of the confessional she would require Mother David’s permission before she mentioned them.

  ‘The candles here,’ she said at last. ‘Last evening I had to go over to the postulancy – I must stop calling it that now we are to have tenants living there! – anyway I went over to check the place – you know it is often left unlocked.’

  ‘Sister Hilaria,’ Sergeant Petrie said.

  ‘Whoever. When I got there candles were burning in nearly every room – candles exactly like these. There was the same odd smell. I took them all up and was on my way back to the main house when the cat, Malkin, leapt out of the shrubbery on to my shoulder. He streaked off again at once. Mrs Pearson told me that Malkin had strayed away. She was going to put an advertisement in the café window. I told her that I’d glimpsed Malkin near the postulancy. She did say she’d walked that way earlier but then turned back.’

  ‘Did you mention the candles you’d seen burning?’

  ‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘The truth is that I half thought she might’ve put them there herself.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Oh, I don’t know. Perhaps when her story about seeing the Devil in the churchyard wasn’t taken seriously, she decided to stage something else up in the postulancy in a bid to convince people she’d been speaking the truth.’

  ‘Did she know the postulancy was empty?’

  ‘She could have done. Father Malone might’ve mentioned that the place had been rented out.’

  ‘A very long way for her to walk,’ Sergeant Petrie said.

  ‘She wasn’t infirm,’ Sister Joan said. ‘And she could’ve had a lift. Some of the Romanies drive their trucks up on to the moor after the week’s buying and selling is completed.’

  She jumped nervously as the sound of a car drawing up outside was followed by the sharp rat-tat of the front door knocker.

  ‘That’ll be the doctor now. We’d better go down. He’s a new man, very competent as far as I’ve heard – done some good forensic work over at Truro.’

  She walked down the stairs rapidly, glad to be out of the room, to breathe purer air instead of the sweet, dizzying smoke curling up from the half burned-out candles.

  The man who came in was in his late thirties, fair hair receding from a high forehead, nod brisk and impersonal as he said, ‘Apologies for the delay. I was in the middle of a tricky experiment that couldn’t be left. You say an elderly woman has died?’

  ‘Mrs Pearson. She wasn’t by any chance a patient of yours? Oh, this is Sister Joan from the Daughters of Compassion. Dr Metcalf is a new addition to the local hospital staff.’

  ‘Sister!’ He gave her a brief, unsmiling glance before turning towards the inspector again. ‘Where is the woman?’

  ‘Upstairs. Sergeant Petrie will show you. We’ve touched as little as possible.’

  ‘Not my concern,’ Dr Metcalf said. ‘That’s for you lot if you think it’s necessary. Oh, and no, she wasn’t a patient of mine. I checked on the hospital computer before I came out.’

  He followed Sergeant Petrie up the stairs, his briefcase held tightly in one hand.

  ‘I’ll have forensics in anyway just in case,’ Alan Mill said. ‘Look, I can run you back to the convent in my car.’

  ‘I have Lilith,’ she began.

  ‘We’ll put Lilith up at the station overnight and I’ll have her brought back in the morning.’

  ‘But I really can’t expect—’

  ‘Us to keep acting as your unofficial boarding kennels cum stables? Don’t worry about it. I’ll have Constable Seldon come over for her. She’s a keen rider.’

  She? That must be the young naturally blonde policewoman she had seen typing away in the office.

  ‘Thank you,’ she said meekly.

  He opened the front door again to let her pass him. Outside, the wind still tossed the grass verges on the road and sent small stones tumbling down the slope of the intervening alleys.

  ‘Seat belt,’ he said automatically, as she got into the car.

  ‘I was going,’ she said, ‘to fasten it.’

  ‘So, any ideas, Sister?’

  She shook her head.

  ‘Not really. It just seems so odd that Mrs Pearson should die now at this time. And the candles—’

  ‘What did you do with the ones you found in the postulancy?’

  ‘I put them in the refuse bin,’ she admitted.

  ‘That’s not like you,’ he said mildly.

  ‘Look, Alan’ – she turned her head towards him as he drove along the moorland track – ‘right now there’s a lot going on at the convent. We’ve a newly elected prioress who has to settle into the position though really she’s doing very well. Money’s tight which is why we’re renting out the postulancy – and while the money will be useful, being able to rent it out at all means that fewer women are entering the religious life. And all kinds of nasty little things have been happening – Alice was lured away. I know she was! And Padraic Lee’s lurcher was poisoned. She wasn’t a young puppy who might’ve picked up something by mistake. She was an old dog. And then there was Mrs Pearson insisting she’d seen the Devil or a devil in the churchyard. I think she did see someone who was trying to frighten her. And two late fledgings were killed – battered to death in the enclosure garden. Luther found them and buried them in case Sister Martha saw them. I haven’t said anything about them to anyone else. There were other things, but I shall need Mother David’s leave before I can tell you.’

  He was silent for a moment, frowning slightly as he drove along the track towards the open gates of the convent. Then he said, ‘I’d appreciate it if you obtained that permission from Mother David fairly soon. Unless it ties in with anything it would be kept quite confidential I promise.’

  ‘And Mrs Pearson?’

  ‘They’ll be taking her to the hospital as soon as Dr Metcalf has completed his preliminary examination. We should get the results through by tomorrow. I’ll let you know as soon as I know. I’ve a feeling there won’t be any prints anywhere around apart from yours and the old lady’s.’

  ‘The candles? That smell?’

  ‘Will be analysed too. Here comes Sister Marie!’

  The younger nun was hurrying round from the back of the building, undisguised relief on her face when she saw Sister Joan in the glare of the headlights as the latter emerged from the car.

  ‘Oh, thank goodness you’re all right!’ she exclaimed. ‘Did Lilith throw you? Surely not! Mother David said to keep supper warm for you if you were late but it’s only just ready. Padraic stopped by with some fish.’

  ‘Salmon?’

  Inspector Mill had alighted from the car.

  ‘Trout,’ Sister Marie said. ‘We’re having them with butter sauce and mashed potatoes. Where is Lilith?’

  ‘Lilith’s fine. They’re keeping her overnight down at the station,’ Sister Joan said.

  ‘Mother David said an elderly lady had died down in the town. How very sad,’ Sister Marie said.

  Her voice was completely sincere as she blessed herself but her roun
d, rosy face was ill made for expressing grief.

  ‘Yes. Very sad,’ Sister Joan said.

  ‘I’m forgetting my manners!’ Sister Marie said. ‘Will you come in for a cup of tea or coffee, Inspector?’

  ‘That’s kind of you but I’m still on duty,’ Alan Mill said.

  ‘I always think that policemen must be most dedicated people,’ she was continuing. ‘All those hours, and having a family too! How is your family? And the boys?’

  ‘The boys are back at boarding-school,’ he said politely. ‘And Mrs Mill is very well.’

  Her name was Samantha, Sister Joan knew, but only once had she heard him refer to her by her Christian name. And they had never met. He kept no comfortably familiar family photograph on his desk.

  ‘Sister Marie,’ she interposed gently, ‘hadn’t we better go in?’

  ‘Yes, of course. Oh Lord, my potatoes!’ Sister Marie whisked kitchenwards.

  ‘Thank you for the lift,’ Sister Joan said. ‘Look, tomorrow’s Sunday. Could you possibly keep Lilith until Monday if it’s not too much trouble? Only Sunday is High Mass and then private prayer for most of the day.’

  ‘We’ll board her for the rest of the weekend. And what exactly will you be doing for the rest of this evening?’

  ‘After supper we have general confession,’ she said, somewhat disconcerted by the question. ‘We confess to one another instead of one of the priests and the prioress gives out the penances. We can do them at once or delay them until tomorrow. There’s no recreation, but one of the sisters reads from the Bible or some devotional book. Why do you ask?’

  ‘I was wondering why you didn’t get more vocations,’ he said drily. ‘I think I begin to see why now. Good night, Sister Joan.’

  SEVEN

  ‘We must certainly acquaint Detective Inspector Mill with all the facts,’ Mother David said thoughtfully. ‘Whether all the recent incidents are connected or not everything must be brought to his attention. Sister, why did you say nothing about the despoiled books and the oddly perfumed candles?’

  ‘I saw no point in upsetting anyone,’ Sister Joan said, uncomfortably.

  ‘You could have come privately to me.’

  ‘I just felt that it would be too upsetting.’

  ‘So you presumed to judge my reaction to what was at the least upsetting evidence that there are vandals about – and vandals of a rather vicious nature? You also destroyed evidence.’

  ‘I apologize, Mother Prioress,’ Sister Joan said. ‘At the time it seemed like the most sensible course of action.’

  ‘At the very least you should have reported it to me.’ Mother David spoke mildly enough but her eyes behind her spectacles were cold.

  ‘I apologize again,’ Sister Joan said. ‘I used my own judgement and I was wrong.’

  ‘At least you acquainted me with all the facts this morning,’ Mother David said with a small inclination of the head. ‘In future, Sister, instead of acting independently it might serve you and the rest of us better if you refrained from behaving as if you had special privileges in this community. I am not suggesting you rush round telling everybody when anything out of the ordinary happens but I do suggest you think very hard before you take independent action again. Is that clear?’

  ‘Yes, Mother.’

  ‘At least you had the common sense not to blurt everything out in general confession. You may regard our talk here as fulfilling that obligation. If anything else occurs I shall expect to be told. I hope that’s clear?’

  ‘Yes, Mother Prioress.’

  ‘Then you had better walk down to the gate to await Lilith. I received a telephone call this morning that the police were bringing her back at ten o’clock.’

  ‘Will you want to see Inspector Mill if he comes?’ Sister Joan asked.

  ‘No. If he has any relevant information concerning the death of that poor lady then you will of course tell me. Dominus vobiscum.’

  ‘Et cum spiritu sancto,’ Sister Joan said with relief, and got herself out of the parlour.

  Mother David had been correct of course. She did use her own judgement too often, assert her own small measure of independence.

  She bit her lip, called Alice who came bounding out, forgetting the slightly theatrical limp with which she had prolonged her convalescence and walked down towards the gates just as the police car with Sergeant Petrie riding Lilith alongside came into view.

  ‘Good morning, Sister Joan.’ Sergeant Petrie slid from the saddle.

  ‘Good morning. Thank you for bringing Lilith back.’

  ‘I’ll take her round to the stable for you, shall I?’ he went on cheerfully, leaving Alice in a dilemma whether to stay where she was or trot after him.

  ‘Off you go!’ Sister Joan resolved the problem with a wave of her hand and waited for Inspector Mill to turn the vehicle around and get out of it.

  ‘Mother David is occupied,’ she said, ‘so if you have anything to report I am to inform her.’

  ‘Only your prints where you said you’d left them. Of course we shall have to check that they are your prints. Is it possible for you to come down to the station this afternoon?’

  ‘I’m due to meet the tenants for the old postulancy at three. They’re coming by train. I could probably come at two-thirty?’

  ‘Just a process of elimination. We won’t find any other prints.’

  ‘They wore gloves?’

  ‘Nobody wore gloves,’ he said.

  ‘But Mrs Pearson—?’

  ‘Mrs Pearson died of a heart attack. Dr Metcalf phoned from the hospital. She’d been receiving medication for angina for some time. She went as an out-patient so he had no reason to see her. Apparently it’s rare for the mild angina she had to develop into a full blown heart attack but last night – late afternoon apparently, she felt ill, went upstairs to lie down and died before she could get help. There was no telephone in the cottage – unusual these days but since she had no family and kept herself to herself she probably viewed it as an unnecessary expense.’

  ‘And the candles?’

  ‘We found a stack of home-made candles, mainly green and black but also red and blue and brown in one of her kitchen cupboards.’

  ‘But that’s crazy!’

  They had begun to stroll up the drive but she stopped short, indignant rejection in her face. ‘Why would—?’

  ‘You thought yourself Mrs Pearson might’ve put the candles in the old postulancy,’ he reminded her. ‘In fact we know now that she did. One of the gypsies called across to us as we were leaving the house yesterday to ask if the old lady was all right. He’d given her a lift up on to the moor a couple of nights back and she set off in the direction of the convent. He said she was carrying a fairly large bag with her. It clinked a bit when he handed it down to her and he supposed she was bringing some junk over for a bring and buy or something.’

  ‘When was this? I mean what time?’

  ‘Latish afternoon he said. If you remember it got dark quite early and there was a high wind.’

  ‘When I went into the postulancy the candles had only just begun to burn down at all,’ Sister Joan said. ‘Did Mrs Pearson have her cat with her?’

  ‘He said not. She told him the animal had strayed and she was fretted about it.’

  ‘And he didn’t give her a lift back?’

  ‘No. Mind you, the walk back is a pretty long one even though it’s downhill most of the way. Maybe that long walk in the wind and rain strained her heart.’

  ‘I must’ve just missed her,’ Sister Joan said.

  ‘And the cat did startle you?’

  ‘Yes, for an instant. It leapt away and – I suppose it set off down into the town again, but it never reached home.’

  ‘Whatever happened it ended up in the river,’ he said sombrely.

  ‘And Mrs Pearson died.’

  ‘Of a heart attack probably induced by overexertion and worry about her cat.’

  ‘And there were prints where I recalled touching t
hings in the cottage and – her prints too I suppose. Are you going to check the old postulancy because the tenants are arriving? It might make them uneasy to find police at the scene.’

  ‘I doubt if it’s necessary,’ he said. ‘Obviously for some wierd reason of her own she lit her home-made candles in the postulancy and then lit them in her bedroom.’

  ‘If you’re feeling the first symptoms of a heart attack then surely you don’t start lighting candles. You lie down, take an aspirin—’

  ‘She had been dead no more than an hour when the doctor saw her, probably less,’ he broke in.

  ‘I see.’ She shook her head slightly to clear it of confusion. ‘But she did light the candles?’

  ‘Made them, set them in their sconces, lit them, then probably took off her top garments and lay down. What else is on your mind?’

  He had paused in their stroll, his eyes intent on her profile. ‘Mother David,’ she said carefully, ‘feels you ought to know that a couple – no, about three weeks ago, I found some books in the library at the postulancy. I went over to take them to the main house. They were religious books – popular lives of the saints, that kind of thing, for the novices to read. They had been scribbled over with obscenities, with nasty little drawings. And under the sink in the little kitchen someone had painted a four letter word on the wall.’

  ‘What word?’

  ‘Shit,’ she said reluctantly.

  ‘Pretty mild in today’s world,’ he commented.

  ‘Not in the convent enclosure!’ she said with spirit. ‘And the words and pictures scribbled inside the books were foul anywhere.’

  ‘What did you do?’

  ‘I painted the bit of wall under the sink to obliterate the word—’

  ‘Don’t tell me! You put the spoiled books in the refuse bin.’

  ‘I’m afraid so,’ she said ruefully. ‘I didn’t tell Mother David about them or the candles until this morning. Oh, and Father Malone had some historic documents in the sacristy – old baptismal certificates from the eighteenth century. He found the drawer where he kept them locked up, unlocked and the documents drawn and written over – fortunately lightly so we’ve been able to get the marks out. I did tell Mother David about that at once. It was before I found the books.’