The Ghost of Kathleen Murphy

by Vickie Carroll

All the pent up desire, frustrations, and longing collided like two rockets in mid-flight. It was all heat, passion, fire, and flames. It burned hot and kept burning as they explored each other as the passion reignited again and again. There was only one way to put out their fire.

  Later, Cassie sat with her glass of wine and watched Jacob in the kitchen. Her hands shook and her body tingled, and though exhausted, she felt more alive than she ever felt before. She knew she might fall in love with him if she let herself, and she knew it was not just the after-glow of good sex making her think so. The thought was terrifying and exciting.

  They were both hungry and a little nervous so they kept the conversation light and to a minimum. She could tell he was happy about tonight, but the closer they came to winding down their meal, the quieter he became. She knew it was because they were about to read the last chapter in Lydia’s journal.

  “Jacob, we don’t need to read the journal tonight if you want to wait.”

  “No, we need to do this and then figure things out. If you and I stand a chance, this is one thing we have to put behind us once and for all. I will deal with my own guilt about not believing Lydia in time, but this goes beyond me. If there was abuse and if that child was killed, then it needs to come out, and the church and everyone else will need to deal with it.”

  “I agree with you. Everything April and I have found out points to some possible abuse by the priest and/or his assistant, who ran the school. Whether one of them killed Maeve, I don’t know, but we feel one or both was somehow involved in her death.”

  Jacob glanced across the room at a box on the floor. “Lydia’s journal was mostly chapters about her own mental issues and feelings as I mentioned, but at the end she stopped taking so much medication so she could research in the archives.”

  “She did just what April and I are doing.”

  “Yes, and now can you see why I reacted like I did? It was like history repeating the worst time in my life.”

  “I can understand, but there was no way for you to know Lydia was telling the truth versus just having hallucinations. You are being very hard on yourself.”

  “The journal was pretty hard to read and I am not looking forward to this final chapter. I thought it important you and I share it and get it out and over with. Are you really sure you want to do this with me, Cassie?”

  “I appreciate your attempt to spare me this, but let me tell you a few things you don’t know before we read the final chapter in Lydia’s journal. April and I got Professor Roland to come out and take some readings around where we saw Kathleen. We went into the renovated section where old priest quarters used to be and he got some readings there. I have one of the machines now. Jacob, this might be hard for you to hear, really hard…it seems Lydia’s spirit…is still around as well.”

  “What? Why?”

  “We think it is to help us find evidence to solve the disappearance of Maeve and quiet Kathleen’s spirit, but also to show she was not insane. Somehow, she must prove there was indeed a ghost child. Failing that, she must have wanted people to find out about the murder and the abuse.”

  Jacob took a long drink from his wine glass. “Oh great, just when I thought things couldn’t get stranger and more complicated than they were already.”

  “Have I made you more upset, Jacob…about Lydia I mean?”

  “I’m not sure how I feel to be honest, but your theory sounds reasonable. She was obsessed with Kathleen and helping her find what happened to her sister, Maeve. It’s all she talked about in her journal. Not all exactly. She wrote a lot about what she thought I wanted. She was convinced I wanted her there at the monastery to get her out of my life.”

  Cassie took another sip of wine. “I guess we better read the final chapter and then we can figure out what to do from that point.”

  Jacob walked to the box and pulled out Lydia’s final journal. They sat shoulder to shoulder on the sofa and Jacob read it aloud.

  Lydia had written: Not sure what day it is today. It is cold but it is always cold here in the monastery, especially in this older original part. Renovation didn’t help much. The walls are still so thick nothing can get in, not even the warmth of the mighty sun at its highest and most powerful. Too bad the walls could not have kept out the evil priest and his helper. I found Maeve’s diary last night and I haven’t been able to sleep since. It was hidden beneath the floorboards in what was once the girl’s quarters in the wing upstairs, right over my room. I kept hearing what I thought were whispers and footsteps so I went up there last night. Kathleen led me to the journal. I pried up two floorboards and there it was, wrapped in an old yellowing gown and tied with a strand of yarn. I cried and cried as I read the words Maeve had written all those years ago.

  It seems the priest was new to the school when Maeve arrived and it was a mere two weeks before he cast his eyes on her. She was chosen to help him in the sanctuary and he gave her a bag of saltwater taffy the first day. She threw it out when she was out of his sight. The next day he gave her stationary and a pen, which she kept. Finally, he gave her the journal, which was his big mistake. It was an expensive journal with a leather cover and a lock and key. He was courting her.

  The second week he touched her on the lips with his fingers and told her she was beautiful. Maeve wrote it down in her journal though it must have been so painful and scary to do. She knew it was wrong for him to do what he was doing and it made her feel dirty. She went down to the cemetery and prayed to the Virgin to make him stop liking her.

  The third week, Edward, his assistant, rubbed his hands up and down her back as he helped her put on the new choir robe he gave her. She asked him to stop but that only seemed to excite him. She gave him back the robe and ran out of the chapel. She went to Sister Agnes and told her the priest and Edward were touching her but the Sister told her she must have misunderstood. It made her doubt her own feelings and she thought she must be doing something wrong.

  The fourth week was when it happened. Edward asked her to take off her clothes so he could look at her beauty in its total…those where his words. When she refused he told her if she didn’t cooperate he would replace her with her little sister, Kathleen, who was also very beautiful. Maeve refused, and told him she would kill him in his sleep if he dared touch her again or came near her sister, Kathleen. It is all very disturbing and makes me cry again. Maeve came to think the priest was aware of all Edward was doing. She came to suspect they worked together, and the priest was hiding and watching, in hope of seeing something when Edward got her alone.

  Weeks went by without incident, and Maeve thought Edward was wrestling with his own conscience or he was convinced of what she said to him about retribution. Then Maeve began to notice Edwards’s gaze began to wander to Kathleen. Maeve thought Edward and the priest saw her as younger so much easier to control. Maeve wrote she began to keep a close eye on Kathleen. She knew the one thing she had the power to do at that point was to blackmail both of them. She told Edward she had written everything down in her journal, and that if he so much as spoke to Kathleen, the journal would find its way to the Bishop along with a letter she had written to the newspaper in Dublin.

  There was one final journal entry after Maeve met with the Edward. She wrote that the room she shared with her sister Kathleen had been searched, and she thought it was one of the Sisters. The priest’s presence or Edward’s in the area would have been highly unusual and too big of a risk to take. So she hid the journal in a place no one would find it, under the floorboards near the little window in their room. It was where she sat and wrote in the journal. A small table and two chairs were there for the girls to do their schoolwork. She never told Kathleen about any of it, not even the journal.

  But Kathleen must have known, or saw her hide the journal. Kathleen took me there and I found it. Then I became terrified my room was being searched as well. I think I was being watched and followed, or maybe they saw me roaming around upstairs in the old school quarters and someone with someth
ing to hide put it all together. Anyway, I am sending this journal back home with Jacob along with some of my other things. They won’t be able to search my home. If anything happens to me, Jacob will read these journals maybe, and he will be able to find Maeve’s journal. I have hidden it where no one will ever think to look… I buried it in Sister Lambert’s grave, under the headstone…pretty smart, right? I will dig it up before I leave here and give it to the authorities.

  Cassie clapped her hands. “Sister Maria Lambert! So that’s why…oh, now I see!”

  Jacob jumped. “What are you talking about?”

  “Time and time again Shamus, our dog, and remind me to tell you more about him later, and Kathleen, and then Lydia, tried to tell us there was something special about that Sister or her grave, and we couldn’t figure it out!”

  “Why did she bury it there?”

  “That’s the thing—it’s why it was so brilliant. She had nothing to do with the girls, the priest or anything. There was no connection so no reason for anyone to go looking. The perfect hiding place.”

  Jacob closed the journal with a sigh. “So what now…we have to go dig it up, right?”

  “Of course we do. But we have to do it without being seen. It is Maeve’s journal that has all the evidence of the abuse, or attempted abuse, whatever you want to call it, and might be the motive for her death.”

  “But what do we do with it? Everyone connected to it is long dead now.”

  “That is not entirely true, Jacob. Someone still living, who was a Sister here when it was a monastery, maybe several people, know this story, and have been complicit in a cover up. No matter how long ago, these girls need justice. We need to find out what happened to Maeve.”

  “You are right, of course, but I’m thinking about all the trouble this is likely to cause the Sisters, the church, the new retreat center owners and investors, one of which is me, or I guess not anymore. The publicity will eventually come and will be a nightmare. And of course, I am thinking about Aunt Bernie, who seems to be invested in this somehow. At least she told me she knows about Kathleen and Maeve, and admitted seeing Kathleen. She knows there was a journal at least. To be honest, she seems a bit more fragile than normal lately. I have begun to wonder about her mental health. This could put her over the edge.”

  “I understand, Jacob, and we will have to be careful and use good judgment, but we can’t stop this now. We have to go forward. I think if we go to the retreat center owners with what we know, and asked them to call for an investigation, maybe we could convince them it’s in their best interest.”

  “I guess it depends on what Maeve’s journal has to say, and if there is any further evidence of a cover up. They aren’t responsible for what happened then, but if they know and are covering up murder, that is different. If they know anything about it or where Maeve’s body is buried, then they are very responsible,” Jacob said.

  Cassie sighed in relief. She and April were not alone in the fight. Now they could come out in the open with it all, and it would be a relief. Though honesty and openness brought problems too. What would happen to April? Where would she go?

  As if reading her mind, Jacob put his hands on hers. “This means big changes for you and April, at least if we go to the owners right away.”

  “I know, and I can manage it all, but I am worried about April. She depends on the income for her college courses.”

  “Let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves, Cassie. First we get the journal, read it, and then maybe we consult with an attorney depending on what is in the journal. I know a great guy who has a practice near the bookstore. I have known him most of my life and I trust him. What do you think?”

  “I think it’s a good idea, but like you said one step at a time. Besides I need to bring April up to speed. This is her life too and she needs to be in on the decisions, agreed?”

  “Agreed. Can you stay over or do I need to get you back to your own cold bed?”

  Cassie smiled and ran her hands up and down his leg. “Oh, I am so tempted, but April waits for me and they might notice you bringing me home at breakfast.”

  Jacob moaned. “Very well, but you need to take your hands off me if you expect me to cooperate with this plan.”

  “Okay, hands off then. It is past eleven, so we better get going. Where are my shoes?”

  “I think I saw them in the hall. I’ll get them. I have to find mine as well.” He stood and held his hands out for her.

  “Okay, let’s get on with it. You find the shoes and I will take these dirty dishes to the kitchen.”

  Cassie stood in the kitchen and looked around. She found herself thinking about what she might change if she lived here. ‘Oh my, let’s not get ahead of things, girl’.

  “Ready when you are.” Jacob held up her shoes.

  Cassie leaned on him as she put on her shoes. “What’s the plan for digging up the journal?”

  “Do we have a plan?”

  “We need to make a plan is what I’m saying. Can’t you understand my English, man?”

  Jacob laughed. “I understand you just fine. The plan is that you update April, and then the three of us need to figure out the best time to go digging in the cemetery.”

  “Words I never expected to hear anyone say, especially you.” Cassie laughed as he guided her toward the car.

  “Words I certainly never expected to say! I will leave the digging details to you and April. Just tell me my part. You are the ones there, know the routine, and can pick the best time. Just tell me when to show up and I’ll be there with shovels in the trunk.”

  Cassie laughed again. “Oh Jesus, Mary and Joseph, as April would say…and keeps saying.”

  Chapter 13

  They sat in the car back at the retreat center. Neither wanted to say goodnight, but Cassie knew they must. They got out of the car and stood looking up at the dark sky dotted with pinpoints of light. She kissed Jacob one last time and watched him get into the car and drive away. She felt exhausted and wrung out, all her emotions were raw. She stumbled along in the darkness as she made her away around the building toward the old wing. She slowed her step to search her purse for the key to the side door, and couldn’t help but look at the ancient building and wonder what spirits roamed tonight. She shivered and glanced toward the trees but there was no sign of Kathleen tonight. The silence settled over her like a blanket, and the clouds parted, letting the moonlight shine to help her find her way as she inched her way to the door.

  “Cassie.”

  She dropped her purse and spun around. “April, good grief, you scared me to death.”

  “Sorry, I was taking Shamus out one last time.”

  “Whew, April, I was thinking about roaming spirits. I’m a little jumpy these days. Since you’re up, let’s go talk a minute. I think Jacob and I have come to terms, and our next step is to get the journal. You will never guess where it is buried!”

  “Where?”

  “Let’s go inside,” Cassie whispered.

  April, wide-eyed, listened without comment as Cassie told her what Lydia had written in her journals. Shamus looked up at Cassie as if he was happy she figured it out at last.

  “So now what do we do? We need to go get it, right? How? When?”

  “Yes, but slow down, April, take a deep breath. We need to pick our time, and Jacob is going to help. We just need to figure out when and how we can do it without being noticed.”

  “Why don’t we do it while everyone is away in Dublin tomorrow evening at the Opera?”

  “Oh, yes, April, perfect. What time are they leaving for Dublin?”

  “I can double check it on the bulletin board, but I think after your morning class ends they will have a light snack and then go into Dublin for shopping and to take the famous writers’ tour with the poetry group before the Opera.”

  “If you can check that out, I’ll call Jacob after breakfast and before class starts so he can plan when to arrive. I’m not sure he was expecting to do this so soon
. He may still be in shock, but we might as well get it done.”

  “Brilliant! We are finally going to solve this mystery, Cassie!”

  “And poor Kathleen and Maeve can rest in peace.”

  “Do you think it’s true…do you think her soul, their souls, are still in some kind of torment?”

  “I hope not, April, but I know our souls will be if we had not figured this out.

  “Oh, what will the old monastery Sisters, the church, and the retreat center owners all say and do about this?”

  Cassie put her hand on April’s arm. “I don’t know, but I was thinking maybe we leave you out of it so your standing here won’t be hurt by what might happen when this all comes out.”

  “Oh, Cassie, I’m not sure; can I think about it?”

  “Whatever you want to do is fine with me. I’m afraid they will ask you to leave if they know you were involved, and I know you depend on this money every summer to save for college costs.”

  “Well yes, but I can find another place to work. Besides, what if they have to close the place down?”

  “There will be, eventually anyway, publicity if we find Maeve’s body, and if it is proven the church or the Sisters knew anything and didn’t come forth with it. And of course they will need to figure out how much the new owners know. But we won’t know until we get to that point. We may never figure out where Maeve is buried, or be able to prove the priest or his assistant killed her.”

  “But we must, Cassie! I just know he did it, or one of them anyway.”

  “I think so too, but the question is, was it an accident or murder, and we may never know, even if the body is found, not after all these years.”

  April cleared her throat. “I’m in; I don’t need to think more about it. Whatever it takes, we must see this through. I’m so happy you and Jacob worked everything out, and I’m not so surprised he is going to help us.”

  “Yes, I’m very happy about everything, between my bouts of anxiety. Some days I think I could stay here in this country, the village, on a permanent basis. Then there are other days, well, you can understand, April.”