The Clock Strikes Nun

by Alice Loweecey

  Pip murmured soothing words. Cissy’s tensed muscles shrieked in their own way: she wanted to be the one comforting Elaine.

  Elaine’s eyes refocused on her own room. “Ms. Driscoll, you’re here. I dreamed about you.” Breathiness made her light voice nearly inaudible.

  Giulia stepped forward. “I hope I wasn’t the cause of your nightmare.”

  “No.” Her smooth, pale forehead cleared. “I’ve been waking up like this for a little while, but I can never remember what scared me.” She snuggled against her husband. “I forget everything bad when I’m in Pip’s arms.”

  He smoothed her hair. “It’s okay now, sweetheart.”

  She smiled up at him as though no one else existed. Certainly not as though she regretted scaring the spit out of everyone else in the room.

  “I remember now. I dreamed Ms. Driscoll came here to try on a dress I designed.” She studied Giulia. “You’re a twelve and short-waisted. A columnar style wouldn’t flatter you because you have hips. That’s right. In the dream I put you into one of last spring’s models: gray silk with a pleated skirt and a shirred top. You argued with me. You said crimson was your color, and then the dress changed, just like Sleeping Beauty’s dress in the movie. You remember, in the last scene where she’s dancing with the prince and the three fairies keep changing her dress from pink to blue to pink to blue?”

  She sized up Giulia again. “Crimson is your color, but gray isn’t wrong. You’d want to accessorize it with a scarf or shawl.” She brought out her phone from the tangle of sheets. “Note for Sandra’s team,” she dictated. “Silk and organza scarves with gray accents for next spring.”

  With another abrupt change, Elaine tossed the phone onto the covers. “We shouldn’t be talking about my silly dreams. We need to get ready for my Tarot reading. Pip, sweetheart, I have to get dressed. Ms. Driscoll, please show Cissy where you’d like to set up. My sitting room is at your service, or you can use any other room you prefer.”

  She scooted out of bed into a dressing room opening off to the left. Giulia was relieved to see she was wearing shorts.

  “Cissy,” Giulia said with a charming smile of her own, “would you please clear a small table in Elaine’s sitting room for me?”

  “Certainly. Pip, could you give me a hand? I think we have to clear away a new dress pattern.”

  Pip smiled and nodded and they went out together. My, how everyone smiled. Giulia wondered if they were so used to it they didn’t notice they were doing it anymore.

  The instant she had the room to herself, Giulia pounced on Elaine’s phone. The technology gods favored her: the screen was still unlocked.

  The open file on the phone was called “Sleep.” Giulia swiped up from the bottom, keyed several choices, and air-dropped the file to her own phone.

  Every PI should have their own personal computer genius. Thank you, Zane.

  She replaced her phone in her messenger bag and followed Cissy’s voice to a room two doors down.

  Elaine’s sitting room doubled as a sewing room. An open shelving unit of two foot by two foot cubes housed bolts of cloth in dozens of shades and textures, piles of tissue paper both folded and cut into patterns, and more spools of thread than Giulia could estimate at one glance. A sewing machine sophisticated enough to belong to Gianni Versace sat on a table custom-made to tuck into a window seat. A mannequin fitted with an inside-out gray silk dress with basted seams stood next to the table.

  Cissy spread a red and white checked cloth on a circular card table. “Is this picnic pattern all right? Do you need a black or plain red or any other color cloth?”

  “Thank you, this is fine.” Elaine’s air of childhood was no doubt responsible for the picnic doggerel in Giulia’s head.

  “If you go down to the castle today,

  You’re sure of a big surprise:

  Today’s the day Elaine gets her Tarot reading.”

  Elaine came in on Pip’s arm. She now wore head to toe black, like Giulia, but there was black and there was black. Giulia’s ongoing resolve not to envy clothes she couldn’t afford without robbing a bank wavered.

  Cissy hovered near Elaine as Pip escorted her to the chair nearest the door. Neither showed signs of leaving Elaine alone with Giulia.

  Terrific. Another debut performance for an audience. Well, go big or go home. She seated herself with her back to the dark window.

  “Do you need the lights off?” Elaine said.

  “We wouldn’t be able to see the cards.”

  Elaine giggled. “You’re funny. Don’t you need candles for atmosphere or to show the spirits the way here?”

  “Such decorations are not necessary.” Giulia brought out her jade silk bag.

  “Oh, how pretty.”

  “A proper reading requires concentration. Silence is the best way to begin.”

  Pip bristled. “That’s my wife you’re ordering around.”

  “Mr. Patrick.” A deliberate word choice since a few days ago he’d insisted she call him Pip. “We are in the midst of a professional consultation. Kindly allow me the courtesy of knowing my business.”

  Pip retired, crushed.

  Great. Now she was thinking in Dickens-esque language.

  Elaine elbowed her husband. “Honey, shush, please. I know this is going to help us.”

  Giulia unwrapped the square of violet silk cloth and the cards appeared. Elaine stopped talking. Giulia smoothed the silk outward to its edges. Cissy turned the sewing chair toward the table and sat. The grandfather clock in the hall bonged twelve times.

  “The witching hour,” Elaine whispered.

  Forty

  Giulia shuffled the cards thinking of Rowan and the way she evoked Maria Ouspenskaya in The Wolf Man. If Giulia’s business was making a permanent shift to Driscoll Investigations, Ghost Breakers, she needed to watch fewer horror movies.

  “Elaine, please tell me why you requested my presence here tonight.”

  “Oh, but don’t you know? Didn’t Cissy explain everything?”

  Giulia kept shuffling. “We have begun the reading. It is important to state your desire with the cards in front of you.”

  “Dear cards, I want to know who is haunting my house, and how I can help them move on to the next plane of existence. Oh, and anything about Pip and me, if that’s okay.”

  Now Giulia had her script. She tapped the deck on the silk to straighten it and placed the cards in front of Elaine. “Please cut the cards.”

  Elaine cut the deck in three. Giulia re-stacked them and dealt the first card in the Celtic Cross layout: the Priestess.

  “This card covers the energy around you.”

  She dealt the Ten of Wands reversed, perpendicular to the Priestess. “This is your stumbling block, something close enough for you to trip over. Reversed it signifies intrigues and similar oppositions.”

  Cissy gripped her hands together.

  “Remember, the reading is one complete, interconnected whole. No single card should be given more weight than the others.”

  Elaine nodded, her gaze riveted on the growing layout.

  Giulia dealt cards counterclockwise around the center two. She mentioned each card’s general meaning and the part of Elaine’s life to which it referred: the recent past, the near future, the energy moving the current situation forward. “Past, present, future, and messages from the other side are all parts of the entire reading. All are connected.”

  When the layout was complete, Giulia took several seconds to gather the meanings of the ten cards as a whole. She touched her index finger to the first four cards. “The Priestess. The Ten of Wands. The Tower. Justice.” She raised her eyes to Elaine’s intent face. “It’s going to be a bumpy ride.”

  Forty-One

  Pip covered Elaine’s hands with his. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Giulia
included Pip in her explanation to Elaine. “Movement is happening in your life. A simile for these four cards in these positions would be: You’ve set Thanksgiving dinner on the table and the dog yanks off the table cloth and runs away with the turkey. All the heirloom china is shattered on the floor and the cat is sitting in the pumpkin pie.”

  Elaine giggled again. Pip lowered his hackles.

  “The Tower in this position could mean a layoff, but not in your case. You’re not about to give yourself a pink slip.”

  Elaine smiled and nodded. Cissy’s eyes narrowed. Pip contributed his rich laugh.

  Giulia said, “Justice is both blind and fierce. Do you know of any injustice touching your life?”

  Elaine’s thoughtful face was a pout with her thumb tapping her bottom lip. “Honestly, all I can think of is our ghost. I mean, our ghost probably has a grievance. Ooh—maybe he was murdered by one of the previous owners. Cissy, who owned the house before the nuns? I forget.”

  Giulia stepped in before Cissy could upset the flow of the reading. “You drew the Ace of Pentacles and the Three of Wands as cards five and six. The ace signifies a new beginning.”

  “The four is reversed.” Elaine’s big blue eyes pleaded with Giulia. “Reversed is bad, isn’t it?”

  “Not in this case and not with this card, which is one of the most positive. Putting the elements of cards one through six together, I would say you are about to receive justice from a wrong in your past, and the shape it takes will center around a family.”

  “But I’m an only child and my parents…oh, Pip.” A delicate shade of rose blossomed on her cheeks.

  “What’s going on?” Pip said to Giulia.

  Elaine flung her arms around his neck. “It means our family. The cards revealed it’s finally time for babies in the castle.”

  Pip kissed his wife over and over. Cissy smiled for the first time. In her eyes Giulia saw a half-dozen miniature Elaines crawl, toddle, and run through the castle halls.

  “Elaine, the other cards you drew relate to home, wealth, and family as well, but also deception and mischief.”

  Elaine’s ecstasy plummeted. “Who could want to make trouble in our house? Everyone’s happy here.”

  Giulia eased her into the idea. “You’re still hearing and seeing unexplained things. Since the cards indicate a positive and powerful future but also a force of some kind counteracting these, perhaps this force is the cause.”

  She allowed the concept to percolate. Pip appeared to consider. Cissy glanced over her shoulder as though she expected to see a translucent Cheshire cat hovering in the window, grinning.

  Elaine reached across the layout and clutched Giulia’s hands. “You’ll find the angry ghost and evict it, won’t you? You’ve done so much for us already.”

  Giulia reversed the grip and patted Elaine’s hands. “We’ll keep on your case until we find answers.”

  “You are the best. Pip, isn’t she wonderful? And such a talented Tarot reader. I have to take a picture to remember tonight.” She slapped her hip. “Why did I design a dress without pockets? Pip, have you seen my phone?”

  “You were listening to it when you took your nap, honey.”

  She jumped up. “Of course. I forgot in all the excitement.” She ran out of the room and returned with the phone, earbuds trailing. “Don’t move, Ms. Driscoll. I want to get you and the cards together.”

  Giulia obeyed through three clicks.

  “I want to show this Tarot layout to our children. Right, sweetheart?”

  The Paul Newman smile appeared. “You bet.”

  Giulia gathered the cards and wiped the energy from the deck as Rowan had taught her. Everyone watched.

  Elaine touched her phone. “It’s almost one a.m. Who could use one of Mike’s special insomnia cures?”

  “Honey, don’t wake Mike at this hour.”

  Elaine pecked her husband on the nose. “Silly. I know how to make them. I’m not completely inept in the kitchen. Come on, Ms. Driscoll. This drink will send even the worst nightmares scurrying to hide in the closet.”

  Giulia stood. “Thank you, but I have to drive home.”

  Cissy shepherded her downstairs, but not before Giulia saw Mike’s, Georgia’s, and Melina’s faces vanish into three of the rooms Giulia hadn’t yet seen.

  Forty-Two

  Giulia set the 7-Eleven bag on the kitchen table. The stove clock read 1:40 and she was wide awake. Frank snored upstairs. Scarlett the chameleon slept amid the vegetables under the bright half moon.

  Thank goodness for twenty-four hour mini marts. She took down the first mug her hand touched: Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer. In August? She almost suspected Sidney of sneaking in to rearrange the dishes to match the alpaca farm’s Christmas in July sale.

  She tucked a cinnamon stick into the mug and retrieved a half-gallon of apple cider from the bag. Two minutes in the microwave and a drink appropriate to the Rudolph mug steamed on the table.

  When coffee intake was restricted, the resourceful PI improvised. She retrieved her laptop from the living room and set it up next to the cider to write up the Tarot reading.

  Stirring the cider with the cinnamon stick twenty minutes later, she reread her notes. Frank must have rolled onto his stomach, because the hum of the refrigerator motor was the only sound in the house. Giulia shook off a frisson of eeriness. This case was messing with her.

  She opened a search window and found a history of the first settlers in the Massachusetts Bay Colony. From there she followed the trail of the Patricks from the sixteen hundreds through the dropped “t” down to Perry Ignatius’ college triumphs and post-college marketing career.

  A second cup of spiced cider succeeded the first as Giulia dissected Pip’s LinkedIn profile. The business parts read as expected. Entry-level marketing assistant to sales team to employee of the year to opening his own branch of the firm in Pittsburgh.

  At the same time, he excelled in the company’s annual softball game. She followed the sports trail and discovered a new dimension to Prince Charming. He spearheaded an annual food and clothing drive for the city’s biggest homeless shelter. In summer, he ran a softball camp for at-risk teenagers.

  Giulia sipped cider and lectured herself about always being ready to adjust her conclusions to accommodate new information. Prince Charming might be too slick for her taste and too handsome to be real, but he had depth. Clark Wagner had good words only for Pip and Veronika Graser out of all the Dahlia crew.

  A third side to Pip appeared after a candid photo from a company retreat pointed to an even narrower trail. Giulia followed it with difficulty, but by three thirty in the morning she’d uncovered strong indications of two mistresses. She couldn’t prove either with certainty, but she’d learned the signs from DI’s time with divorce cases.

  She leaned on her elbows and rubbed her eyes. A piece of research nagged at her. Her mug was empty. She sucked the cider-soaked cinnamon stick. Her eyes popped open and she remembered cinnamon Red Hots always made her tongue burn for hours.

  Awake again, she scrolled through all the interviews trying to trigger a recollection. The Christmas Ball story. No, before that.

  There. The skeleton story. She logged onto a Catholic site specializing in legends of saints and refreshed herself on St. Columba getting upstaged by his faithful monk St. Odhran’s willingness to be buried alive to fortify Columba’s chapel at Iona. Did Odhran ever encounter Columba in Heaven and say “neener, neener” to him?

  Giulia yawned. Her research synapses were sputtering at—she squinted at the clock in her task bar—4:17 a.m. Maybe some music would keep her awake.

  Her phone opened to the air drop screen. Fatigue forgotten, Giulia played Elaine’s sleep recording.

  Forty-Three

  “You guys, listen to this.”

  Zane and Sidney saved their open documents. Giu
lia pressed Play on her phone. A soothing female voice recited over the sound of gentle ocean waves:

  “There was a lady all skin and bone;

  Sure such a lady was never known:

  It happened upon a certain day,

  This lady went to church to pray.

  “When she came to the church stile,

  There she did rest a little while;

  When she came to the churchyard,

  There the bells so loud she heard.

  “When she came to the church door,

  She stopped to rest a little more;

  When she came the church within,

  The parson prayed ’gainst pride and sin.

  “On looking up, on looking down,

  She saw a dead man on the ground;

  And from his nose unto his chin,

  The worms crawled out, the worms crawled in.

  “Then she unto the parson said,

  Shall I be so when I am dead:

  O yes! O yes, the parson said,

  You will be so when you are dead.”

  A piercing shriek followed the last word.

  “Holy gods,” Zane said.

  “Is that supposed to be a hypnotism recording?” Sidney said.

  “No, it’s Elaine’s way of getting to sleep when she’s stressed.” Giulia scrolled to an earlier point in the recording.

  “Hickory, dickory, dock.

  The mouse ran up the clock.

  The clock struck one,

  The mouse ran down,

  Hickory, dickory, dock.”

  Giulia stopped the playback. “When she was a child, her tutor would read nursery rhymes to her every night.”

  “She’d scream at her?” Sidney said. “Why wasn’t she fired on the spot?”

  “She didn’t. My point is, I’ve listened to the whole recording. Every rhyme is normal except the last one.”