Hattie smiled with her knowing way, “Maybe she still loves him. Not everyone is bitter where divorce is concerned.”
“A good point,” Clara added. “I wonder how long they were married?”
“I don’t know. The old Facebook page had a picture of him and Marcella and couple of children.”
“You are awfully quiet my dear,” Suzy said to her sister.
“I guess I’m just trying to recall what I overheard at the coffee shop today. If it comes to me, maybe it will shed some light. Right now. I have to get some sleep. I don’t want to look a fright tomorrow in class. I’ve been anticipating this stained glass workshop for a while.”
“Me too,” Clara said.
Our little cabin had a very nice sitting room with a love seat and two recliners. I took my notes to the Lazy-Boy and spread them out to ponder the day. Something was right in front of me that I was missing. It was sitting under my nose. Was it just me or was it strange that a prominent member of the social structure was rushed to the hospital this afternoon and nothing has been said about it? Maybe it was kept private and only discussed in their circles. I just think it’s very weird.
Hattie wheeled out of her room in her nightgown.
“Just a word about this morning,” she said. “I intend to keep everything just between us and hope you’ll do the same.”
“Of course, Hattie. And I do appreciate your listening ear. I’ll try not to be a wimp.”
“When do you get the results?”
“The doctor’s office will call when they get the lab biopsy.”
“Offer still stands.”
“I know Hattie and I love you for it.”
“Goodnight dear.”
While I was still going over my notes, Amy tiptoed out of the room she shared with her sister. I looked up in surprise.
“I just remembered what I heard in the coffee shop this morning,” she said. “One of the brothers whispered to another, ‘another mystery ailment’ and he made the parenthesis marks with his fingers. The other brother just nodded and they exited to the gardens. I didn’t think much of it at the time but when you mentioned Brother Ignatius and the paramedics, it rang a bell. Hope this helps. I think I can sleep now.”
“Good night dear. And thanks. I think this could be very helpful indeed,” I whispered.
I stretched myself out and tapped on my own laptop. I had some questions of my own to ask.
~7~
The next morning when I rose and went to grab my coffee I noticed Clara’s room was empty. I checked the bathrooms and indeed she had evidently gotten up earlier than usual. Maybe she was checking out the 4:30 a.m. vigils. I can’t even focus at that hour much less confess my sins – not that I don’t have any. Speaking of which, I checked my IPhone for messages. There was one from Tom saying he was having a lot of success in his research. There was one from the dentist saying we needed to confirm our appointments, but alas none from Dr. Peterson or his office. I prayed for Brother Ignatius and the strange situation we were facing. At that moment the cottage telephone rang. It was the Abbot.
I gave everyone time to get dressed, drink a cup of coffee, and have a moment of private time before I explained the Abbot’s call.
“Listen up girls, the stained glass workshop will be delayed today. It seems Brother Francis has also taken ill. He was to substitute for Brother Ignatius, who you know is in the hospital.”
“Does this strike anyone as odd?” Suzy blurted out. “One of the monks goes into the hospital desperately ill. Then a few hours later so does his replacement. And the coup de gras is that they are both instructors who teach in the stain glass barn.”
“Oh and that’s not all,” Clara chimed in as she entered. “There were numerous visits to the infirmary by them both and a former monk named Brother Theodore.”
“Why do you say former? I thought once you were a monk you were always a monk,” Amy said.
“Because Brother Theodore is dead. He had stomach cramps, delusions, migraines, along with a number of other unpleasant symptoms. He was treated for the flu but succumbed after a few days of high fevers. His body was laid to rest in the acreage beyond the monastery. The zinger is that Brother Theodore was the original Stain Glass Master. He taught the others the craft. Do we see a pattern emerging?”
“Oh God! You don’t think?” I gasped.
“Yes I do,” Clara said.
Hattie chortled. “I wonder if the good Lord is doing this or are we doing some kind of penance?”
“Whatever do you mean?” Suzy said.
“I mean, murder of course. Someone at the monastery is murdering monks. We know the how, well sort of anyway. It sounds like lead poisoning. When I was a girl lots of children died from lead in paint on cribs and toys. Then there was another scare later on with paint sets, batteries, pewter dinnerware, bullets, and pipes in homes. But even before all of that, many historians believe rulers throughout history who were thought to be mad actually had exposure to lead salts in their diet.”
“Wow how did you come to know so much about lead poisoning, Hattie?”
“Well you can’t work in salons very long and not be knowledgeable about lead acetate. When I purchased Total Image salon, the licensing agency required us to take a course in hair dye. Years ago it was combined with bismuth and other nasty stuff and used on women’s hair. Only too late they discovered that it had some dangerous side effects including renal failure. The FDA took it off the market here but in other countries it is still used with disastrous results.”
“That’s awful. But how do we know that this is murder?” I said.
“I don’t think we do until we find proof. How I wish Tony was here! He’s a doctor and he’d know what to do,” Suzy moaned.
“He’s a veterinarian and a de-frocked one at that. I am not sure he would know anything unless it was to do with a canine or feline,” Amy chided.
“Girls. Don’t argue. If we have a murder, then we have a murderer and we could all be in danger. It’s time to plan our next move,” I said.
Even as I thought about all the events that led up to Brother Theodore and the rest, I trembled and wondered – our next move—and just what would that be?
The cottage phone rang again. Suzy answered it briefly. She replaced the receiver and said, “It was Marcella. Brother Ignatius just died.”
~8~
Tears streamed down all our faces. I didn’t have words to say which was good because everyone else had plenty.
“Let’s get packed,” Amy said.
“What? Are you serious? We can’t leave now,” I responded.
“And why not?” Suzy said.
“Because we have a monk buried in the back forty and another in the morgue with the same symptoms. If that isn’t grounds for suspicion of murder I don’t know what is.
“Clara, call your nephew, Kenny. Have him poke around the obits, hospital reports, and suspicious cases in the area. See if he has any police buddies in the area who can give us a hand. Meanwhile, give us everything you can find about the infirmary, the staff, and how each monk buried in Honeydew Meadows died.
“Hattie you hold down the fort and make sure no one suspects us of anything. Can you do that without getting into trouble?”
“I’ll try,” Hattie said weakly and unconvincingly.
I sounded like Patton on D-Day but I thought the occasion called for it. If we let this go, how many others would die and the culprit never be caught?
“Aye Aye, Captain,” Clara said. “I did track down the head of the infirmary, he told me the volunteer who normally takes care of the reception desk has a broken leg and they haven’t been able to replace her, so that explains the mystery but not the mystery man – that is I mean to say the mystery monk.”
“Suzy, would you use your power of persuasion to extend our visit? They will want us out ASAP I’ll bet, so give them the excuse that we want to stay and attend Brother Ignatius funeral. That will buy us some time,” I said this hoping
to get a nod of acquiescence. It worked and she was on board. Now for Amy.
“And Amy dear, could you join me in a going over of the stain glass laboratory? We need to sweet talk someone into a key. I know you and Brother Andrew have been talking a lot. Maybe he knows who holds the master key to the workshop area. I have a feeling we will find a lot of answers to our questions in there. How about it?”
“Sure that should be easy?” Amy said. “One more thing. When are we going to call the police?”
“When we catch our monk murderer,” I said. I didn’t have to look because I felt four pairs of eye rolls behind my back.
“Okay everyone to your posts,” I shouted. The group headed out.
“Amy, we should wear something inconspicuous. Any suggestions?”
“What about this?” she offered. I turned to see two brown homespun robes in her grasp.
“Perfect. But wherever did you get them?”
“I happened to find the monks’ laundromat. Something told me they might just come in handy. Around here everyone looks alike so I figured if we need to go incognito for some reason these would do. I also think that’s where your mysterious monk at the infirmary acquired his costume. They really should be more careful with their security.”
“Amy you do have a point, but really who thinks to guard the laundry?”
“Perhaps they should. At least until the murderer is apprehended. Ready?”
“I think we should wipe off the makeup and ditch out jewelry, first. It’s not exactly part of the uniform for a Trappist to wear diamonds and lipstick.”
Our guest cabin although roomy had only one entrance, so I poked my head outside and checked to see if we were being watched. Two monks exiting a guest cabin filled with women would arouse suspicion. Lord knows, we didn’t need that. Amy and I skirted the cabin and made for the back of the chapel. It wasn’t easy running with a hood covering most of our face and long skirts to hike up. My chest felt as if it would burst by the time we made it to the line of buildings that housed the workshop area.
Amy signaled me to stop. She faced me, pulled our hoods down, and starting fingering the rosary. A monk passed us by.
“Peace to you brother,” he said softly.
“And to you,” we said in our best low tones.
“That was close,” I whispered. “What do you suppose he was doing? Workshops are cancelled because of the funeral preparations. He might be wondering the same thing about us.”
“True,” Amy agreed. “Since when do monks wear Alabama Crimson Tide sneakers? I thought sandals were the order of the day. And something else. He tossed something in the trash as he came out of the lab. Maybe it’s nothing, but I need to check it out.”
The lab door wasn’t locked. Brothers are trusting souls; they don’t lock anything. Amy had some knowledge of scientific equipment from her days of working at the university. Since she knew what to search for in the lab, I was the appointed lookout. In less than ten minutes, she was beside me holding a black thin substance that looked like Swiss cheese.
“Here’s the problem,” she said and beamed with pride.
“Okay I give up. What is it?”
“It’s the filter for the fume extractor system. Basically it’s a carbon slice that takes the lead fumes from the air and keeps you from inhaling them when you are working with leaded glass.” She pointed to the holes.
“Depending on how long this one has been in the extractor, someone’s lungs are filled with lead salts. Over a period of time, this could be deadly.”
“How many extractors are in the lab?”
“Three, but only one is in working order. Seems like sabotage, don’t you think?”
I held up another item.
“Found this in the trash. I held up a soda can. Looks like our Brother Nike was pretty sloppy. I wish we had Hattie’s spy kit. We could dust for fingerprints and get them to Kenny,” I said.
“I can do that. I’ve already lifted prints from the filter,” Amy said. “I procured that little app after our cruise ship experience. Hattie showed me how to do it and send it to her FBI contacts.”
“You do amaze me, lady. But how?”
She pulled out a pink tool bag from under her robes.
“I have my own little kit. Hattie made it for me after the cruise. She had Kenny install everything on my computer and my IPhone.”
“My, my. We have our own little circle of spy detection, don’t we?”
“Yep. Now let’s ditch these robes and get back to being normal – you know ditzy seniors who don’t know the score. This guy has no idea who they are up against. This is not the first murder for the Thursday Club,” I said proudly. “But we must constantly remind ourselves, we don’t know what we’re up against.”
Chimes sounded. It was the signal for prayers and lunch. The others would know to meet us at the dining hall entrance. It would be a challenge to withhold what we’d found out until after the meal. I could only hope that due to the circumstances, many of the monks would be otherwise occupied. Surely all the other guests were gone by now. I wonder if Suzy succeeded in convincing the Abbot to let us stay on.
Would Kenny show up in plain clothes or as a police officer? This was out of his jurisdiction so he would also have to do something clever to keep everything legal. I wonder if that fingerprint program automatically sent him the results too. If so, I would have to explain and just how long would all of that take?
All these questions bubbling inside and I was forced to remain silent and eat my homemade chicken noodle soup. I was so frustrated I almost passed up dessert – almost. Cherry cobbler with vanilla bean ice cream. I’m frustrated not crazy!
~9~
Everyone was eager to report on their assigned tasks. Suzy had batted her baby blues to the Abbot and the guest Bishop and convinced them of our sincere wish to attend Brother Ignatius funeral.
Clara squeaked into the parking lot in Scarlett just in time for meals. She was so excited that she and Hattie were shushed during prayers. Amy and I huddled with the others to report when Amy’s cell buzzed. She had turned it to vibrate when we were impersonating a Trappist monk. It was AFIS. AFIS had no match for the fingerprints on file. That meant this was a first time offender.
“No prints on file? How could that be?” Amy said. Another shush and a hard glance.
We finished up quickly and went outside.
“That means he/she wasn’t an offender – or at least one that got caught,” Hattie whispered as we exited.
Amy continued reading the report and said, “Listen to this. In spite of there being no matching prints. It is my expert opinion that considering the pattern of the loops, whorls, and arches that these prints were made by a male.”
“Guess that lets Marcella off the hook unless of course she is a partner in crime,” Suzy said.
“I overheard a phone call yesterday. She told someone that he/she was not supportive and didn’t understand. It got pretty heated but then she realized I was still there and hung up.”
“When was that?” Hattie asked.
“All of you had gone to the jam making demonstration and I was still reading the history of the monastery. For a few moments, Marcella forgot I was still there.”
“I think I was the only one who heard it?”
“What do you think it means?”
“ I don’t know probably nothing,” I said.
“While Roxy and Amy were running around playing dress up, I was doing real detective work,” Hattie said.
“Yeah. What was that?” Amy asked.
“Someone tried to break into our cabin,” Hattie said. “I was in the recliner and acted like I was napping with a book over my eyes. When I heard the knob twist, I made snoring noises and pretended to be asleep. Later it sounded like someone was at the window. I didn’t move a muscle until I was sure they were gone. Believe me I was terrified, but I had Mace© beside me if the intruder actually made it inside.”
“How exciting. . . I mean terri
fying,” Amy said. “Did you get a look?”
“Not really, I peeped under the book enough to see that it was someone in a robe.”
“That’s practically everyone here,” I said.
“Yes but this was someone not short like Marcella buy tall like the Abbot or one of the other brothers. And as he walked away I noticed he was wearing tennis shoes – red ones with a logo of some kind.”
Amy chimed in, “I saw him too. He wore Alabama Crimson Tide tennis shoes. We met him on the way back from the stained glass barn. Who do you suppose he really is? And what is he doing poking around the labs and guest quarters?”
“I imagine he is trying to find out how much we know,” I told the others. What I didn’t say is that if he murdered Brother Ignatius and put Brother Francis in the hospital, we had better be extra careful.
“Clara, dear. Have you had a report from Kenny?”
“Yes he is staying nearby. A buddy he went to police academy with is on the local law force. He received the AFIS report and is asking about visiting the monastery in the morning, what do you think?” she asked.
“Definitely. The funeral is tomorrow. There will be lots of people here not just us and the brothers. He and his buddy can mingle with the crowd. In the meantime, no one leaves the guest house alone. Always in twos and make sure we stay in touch. Keep your phones on you at all times. Now, let’s synchronize our watches,” I said.
“Our watches. Why our watches?” Clara asked.
“I just always wanted to say that,” I answered. “I suppose I should telephone my husband and let him know what’s going down.”
“Wait,” Amy said, “until we catch this no good so-and-so. Then you can give him the whole story.”
“I suppose there is some logic in that,” I reasoned. “Anyway it’s getting late. Does anyone need to leave here before morning?”
Everyone looked around the room. I took that to mean we were settled for the night.
A storm blew up and the scratching of the branches added to my nightmare. I was in a hospital room all alone. Then the door opened and a nurse brought in a tray covered with a napkin. When I uncovered it, there were two breasts lying there. I awoke crying and feeling for my breasts to make sure they hadn’t been lopped off.
Thursday Club Mysteries: All 7 stories Page 16