by Rita Moreau
“You are the most gifted of all of us in the psychic department,” Sister Hildegard said.
“So, I’ve been told,” I said. “It seems I am always drawn back into that web.”
“Yes, and you will continue to be drawn into it,” Sister Hildegard said.
“Just think of it as taking a trip, a long trip, like into outer space,” Sister Matilda said prompting a puzzled look from Sister Hildegard.
“You know, like a journey to a galaxy far, far away,” Sister Matilda said.
“Eyes on the road, Sister or we all will be going on a journey, far, far away.”
“Yes, Mother Superior.”
“MC, your Aunt Sophia saw something in those cards. You need to tap into your gift. Find out what she saw and get to the bottom of this,” Sister Hildegard said while pointing a finger at her.
“That’s what Theo told me,” I said as I saw the first highway signs for Fish Camp.
“Listen to Theo. For once and for all, whether you like it or not, stop fighting this gift that has been given you by the good Lord. Embrace it.”
I stared straight ahead until Sister Matilda pulled into Pirate’s Cove. The parking lot was full of news trucks, and at the center of it, I saw my Aunt Anna, standing next to Limo Louie, being interviewed by CNN.
“Welcome home, MC,” Sister Hildegard said as they came to a stop and were quickly surrounded by the eager reporters with cameras and microphones.
5
I followed Sister Hildegard and Sister Matilda through the throng of reporters up to where Limo Louie was standing next to Aunt Anna and a reporter from CNN. I watched as he nodded to follow him to his black, 1975 Cadillac Fleetwood limousine. Aunt Anna stayed with the reporter but blew a kiss.
Limo Louie was about 5 feet 2 inches tall and was nearly as round. Always dressed in a suit, his Cadillac limousine served as his law office. He had a cocky nature which suited him well as a lawyer.
“What’s the point? Don’t need the overhead,” he’d told me once when I asked why.
“This way I can meet my clients anywhere.”
When he was really strapped for money he used the Cadillac driving for Uber, hence the name, Limo Louie. He directed us into the back seat of the Cadillac which was surprisingly roomy.
“Drink?” Limo Louie said as he poured himself a shot of dark rum. “I have ouzo and wine.”
“Sure,” Sister Hildegard said, and Sister Matilda followed suit.
“Why not,” I said as Louie handed each of us a drink in red mini solo cups.
“Sorry, these take up less room than the Waterford crystal I am sure you ladies are used to.”
“You have us confused with the priests,” Sister Hildegard said with a nod of her head toward her solo cup. “Didn’t know they came in this size, Sister Matilda please make a note of that.”
“Yes, Mother Superior.”
“MC, have you talked to your Aunt Anna?” Louie asked after he finished pouring drinks.
I shook my head, “No, every time I try her I either get her voicemail, or she is busy with CNN.”
“They really need new phones,” Louie said. “Flip phones went out with the last century.”
I responded, “We can talk about their cell phone issues later. Right now, can you bring me up to date on Aunt Sophia being arrested for murder?”
“It’s all over the cable news.”
“Louis,” Sister Hildegard now spoke, and he was suddenly quiet.
“MC has been out at sea with her husband Theo on a research vessel. They don’t get CNN. Capiche?”
“Yes, Sister.”
“Mother Superior,” Sister Matilda added.
Louie made the sign of the cross and gave MC his undivided attention.
“What can I tell you?”
“Just the facts, Louis,” Sister Hildegard said visibly perturbed.
“Yes, Mother Superior.”
“In chronological order, if you please,” Sister Matilda said holding out her mini solo cup for a refill.
Louie poured everyone another shot and started from the beginning.
“This Russian billionaire, Peter Kosomov opened a real estate office several months ago in Boca Vista when he set his sights on taking over the Pirate’s Cove condominium complex. His office was set up to handle the purchase of the condos for Pirate’s Cove. Ivan Petrolia, the dead guy, ran the office along with a part-time secretary, Henrietta,” Louie said pausing only long enough to take a breath. “Not too long after the office opened, Ivan showed up one day at your aunt’s condo.”
Louie looked at me wanting to say more but decided against it when he caught the get-on-with-it look from Sister Hildegard. MC noticed she was starting to tap her size 12 black pumps.
“Ivan was found dead in his office,” Louie said.
“So I’ve heard. Have the police said how Ivan was killed and how my Aunt Sophia fits into all this?” I asked. “What have the police told you? How about this new police chief over in Boca Vista I’m just now hearing about?”
“His name is Troy Hammer. He is from Chicago where the cops who used to work with him called him Hammerhead,” Limo Louie said.
“Hammerhead?” I asked.
“Like the shark?” Sister Matilda said.
“Yes Sister,” Louie responded.
Sister Matilda took that as a cue for a history time lecture on sharks. “Hammerhead sharks are named for the unusual hammer shape of their heads. Unlike most sharks, they usually swim in schools during the day but become solitary hunters at night. Reproduction occurs only once a year. It starts with the male biting the female to get her in the mood.”
“Sister Matilda, that will be enough of your hammerhead shark history lesson,” Sister Hildegard said in a voice that brooked no refusal. I momentarily held my breath until Sister Hildegard nodded her head to continue.
“So, Hammerhead, the new chief of police … did he tell you what happened to the Russian?” I asked again.
“They think he was poisoned. They found a cup of tea, and they think the poison was in the tea. They are waiting for autopsy and toxicology results.”
“Poisoned? With the cup of tea he was drinking?” I asked. “That sounds so Agatha Christie.”
“Russians have longed used poison to take out their enemies,” Sister Matilda said, always jumping in when another opening for history time presented itself. “The Russians have been obsessed with poison for centuries. You can find death by poison all through Russian history and literature.”
“Enough, for now, Sister, you can tell us more about this fascinating topic later,” Sister Hildegard said.
“Yes, Mother Superior.”
“Continue Louis.”
“Yes, well he was found dead at the real estate office,” Louie said.
I repeated back what I had heard, “He was found dead at the real estate office. They think he was poisoned. They think the poison was from drinking tea. But, they won’t know for sure until the test results come back.”
I was getting more and more impatient with Louie, and I could also see out of the corner of my eye Sister Hildegard was as well.
“Yes. It looks that way.”
“Louis,” Sister Hildegard was now giving him the move it along universal hand signal. I waited for the go-ahead nod from Sister Hildegard.
“Jumping past the scene of the crime, how does my Aunt Sophia figure into this murder?” I asked. Good grief I thought. How long was it going to take to get a straight answer about what was going on with Aunt Sophia?
“I don’t really know. Your Aunt Sophia won’t talk. She refuses to talk to the police, and she won’t talk to me either,” Louie said.
“So I heard,” I said. “My aunt refuses to talk because of the fortune telling rules and her professional ethics.”
“Like confession,” Sister Matilda added.
“So, what happened?” I asked.
“He threatened to arrest her,” Louie said.
“Yes, I have alr
eady heard that,” I said leaning forward into his personal space, “What am I missing here Louie? How did they connect Sophia to this murder?”
“Chronological order,” Sister Matilda reminded Louie, who took a deep breath and another shot, “Okay, it went down like this. Ivan called your aunt and begged her to come to the real estate office, a matter of life and death. He had something to ask her, and he needed her to read the cards. She met him and then returned home. The part-time secretary Henrietta found him stone cold dead when she showed up for work the next morning and called 911. She told Hammerhead that Ivan was still there when she had left the office yesterday and that he was waiting for Sophia. It looks like your Aunt Sophia was the last person to see Ivan alive.”
“Well no, whoever murdered him was the last person to see Ivan alive,” I said to Louie who gave me a blank stare and then nodded.
“Well, she refused to talk to Hammerhead, and he was getting ready to arrest her for murder when she decided to call Ernie. Thanks to him, she wasn’t arrested. Ernie called somebody high up that he knew, and they called Hammerhead. She was released with orders from Hammerhead not to leave town,” Louie said. “But he also reminded her that she’s still considered a person of interest.”
“Your Aunt Anna and her public access TV studio leaked the story to the press. All the cable news trucks pulled into town shortly after that. They’re having a field day with this story. Little old Greek lady who reads fortunes won’t tell the police what happened during the dead Russian’s last card reading even if it means she’s going down for murder. The news loves this. There is talk of spinning it off to a reality show,” Louie said.
“Did their secretary keep a calendar of Ivan’s appointments?” I asked as questions started coming quicker to my mind. “Was there someone else Ivan was meeting with that night?”
“She was there just to answer the phones and shuffle the real estate paperwork. She told the cops she doesn’t know anything else. She only knew Sophia was meeting Ivan because she overheard Ivan speaking to Sophia on the phone.”
“This is not like my Aunt Sophia. She usually only holds card readings at their condo. She doesn’t make house calls,” I said.
“Was there something besides tea in the tea?” I asked. I closed my eyes and visualized a cup of tea—I could also see the dim image of something else.
“The cup had tea leaves in it. Hammerhead said they also found some tea leaves in a saucer. He is saying it looked as if your Aunt Sophia used tea leaves for a reading.”
“My Aunt Sophia doesn’t read tea leaves. She only reads cards,” I said.
“The bottom line is this, MC,” Louie said. “The police think she knows something. Something Ivan told her during the card readings. Something that could explain what happened that night, like who murdered him. Sooner or later it’s got to come out. I am her lawyer, and she needs to talk to me because I am not a psychic.”
“Well, she is not going to talk,” I said. “Trust me on that one. But why even consider arresting her other than she might have been there that evening? She has no motive.”
“Hammerhead is saying motive comes from the battle she is waging to stop the Russians from buying out Pirate’s Cove.”
“That’s a weak motive,” said Sister Matilda who was an avid fan of police shows. “As MC said, Sophia reads cards not tea leaves. Both do require skill. The art of reading tea leaves is called Tasseography. Coffee grounds can also be read, especially in the Middle East.”
“Sister Matilda,” Sister Hildegard said in her Mother Superior voice. “Not now, please.”
“Yes, Mother Superior,” Sister Matilda got the message now loud and clear.
Louie continued, “Hammerhead is claiming the toxicology and autopsy results will show that poison was in the tea. He said Sophia brought her own tea leaves for the reading. The circumstantial evidence points to your Aunt Sophia, and it will be enough for an arrest.”
“She never uses tea leaves,” I said. “She only reads cards. She’s being set up, and it sounds like this Hammerhead is either behind it or going along with it.”
“Well, until she talks, she’s the prime suspect,” Louie said just as Aunt Anna hopped into the back seat of the Cadillac.
“Hello MC,” Aunt Anna said giving her a big hug. “Louie please put the pedal to the metal and drive us to the convent. Your Aunt Sophia is waiting for us there.”
I looked at my Aunt Anna and then at Sister Hildegard and Sister Matilda. A feeling of déjà vu came over me. Dang. Welcome home, MC.
6
I made my way down the stairs in the convent to the room they call the bomb shelter. Waiting for me were my Aunt Sophia and Velma who was busy searching the room with a flashlight. Louie decided to stay with the Cadillac saying Sophia would feel more comfortable talking if he wasn’t in the room.
“Report back to me what she says though, please MC,” he said.
“I’m checking for spiders,” Velma said after giving me a big hug. Velma was an old friend who ran my accounting office and remained with it after I sold it to Charlie, another old friend. Velma was deathly afraid of spiders and always gave this room a sweep for spiders after having seen a large one there once.
I went over to Aunt Sophia and gave her a big hug.
“I understand some cop named Hammerhead tried to arrest you,” I said.
“It’s a mix up that I am sure will be cleared up,” Aunt Sophia said as she shrugged it off like it was no big deal.
I watched as my Aunt Anna proceeded to spit her way around the room, a Greek tradition to ward off evil spirits. Velma followed at a safe distance, still checking for spiders. When finished Aunt Anna came up to me and said, “I’ve been trying to reach you MC; don’t you check your phone?” It was my turn now to shrug my shoulders as I looked down at my aunt who resembled a munchkin.
“Please, sit down MC,” Aunt Sophia said.
“I suppose you’ve either read the news or Louis has brought you up to speed. Yes, the police chief, Troy Hammer, tried to arrest me for the murder of Ivan Petrolia.”
“Why?” I asked, still not understanding how this was happening.
“They claim I was the last one to see him the night he was killed. Ivan asked me to come to his office to read the cards.”
As I looked into her eyes, I knew she knew something, but my aunt would go to her grave before she told us. Then maybe because I was in a room full of psychic women, the part of my brain that is psychic gave me this question to ask.
“You know why he was killed, don’t you Aunt Sophia?”
We all looked at her, but she was quiet with a look on her face that did not reveal anything.
“You need to talk to Louie. He is your lawyer. It would be privileged information, but might give him some idea how to defend you,” I said.
“I cannot,” Aunt Sophia said. “It would be against the ethical code I have followed my entire life. I cannot divulge what Ivan told me the day he died.”
“But something he told you may help the police find the murderer,” I said. My Aunt Sophia took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
I looked over at Sister Matilda. “Isn’t that correct? Doesn’t a priest have to talk if it involves a crime?”
Sister Matilda shook her head and said, “No, a priest has no duty to report a crime he heard in confession. He is entirely protected from liability. The seal of confession cannot be broken. The very most he can do is to ask the penitent to surrender to the authorities. Maybe Louie can argue that if Sophia is arrested and she goes to trial.”
We all looked at Sister Matilda including my Aunt Sophia. She backpedaled and said, “Never mind.”
“Sophia, for crying out loud, you need to talk to Limo Louie and tell him what you know,” my Aunt Anna was standing and speaking louder than I have ever heard her speak to her older sister.
What happened next was an argument between the two, explosive but all in Greek. I didn’t need to understand Greek to know that my Aun
t Anna was pleading with her older sister to tell them what happened during the card reading. It was to no avail. My Aunt Sophia was not going to budge. We all sat there until the heat between the sisters blew over.
“Mother of God and all the saints above,” my Aunt Anna said in frustration with her sister.
Velma looked at me and said, “Welcome home, MC.”
“Aunt Sophia, can you tell me if Ivan had a cup of tea that evening?” I asked feeling my mind sensing something about the cup of tea.
“Ivan enjoyed drinking a cup of tea during the card readings. He told me that it calmed him down. During one reading, I introduced him to Greek tea. He asked me to bring the Greek tea that day for the reading. I am not a tea or coffee drinker,” Aunt Sophia said.
“The chief of police is claiming that the poison that killed Ivan was in the tea and that the tea leaves were brought by you for the reading.”
“I do not read tea leaves,” Aunt Sophia said. “I read cards. Everyone knows that.”
“Not Hammerhead,” I said feeling the heat from the psychic side of my brain.
“Aunt Sophia, it is not your practice to make house calls. Something important was discussed during that card reading,” I said as I felt a dark feeling wrap around me. Sister Hildegard now stood and addressed us.
“Your Aunt Sophia is not going to tell us why Ivan asked her to read the cards that night. You, MC, need to come out of the dugout and step up to bat. Use your psychic gift to find out what happened to Ivan that evening. You can do that without any violation of the rules of fortune tellers,” Sister Hildegard said. Velma followed with a loud “amen,” which prompted everyone else in the room to follow suit with “amen, amen.”
“No, it’s too dangerous,” Aunt Sophia said loudly, and then bit her lip knowing she was revealing something about what she had heard during that card reading.
“Sophia, you can’t have it both ways. If you are not going to let your lawyer know what happened that night then let MC use her psychic ability to find out. Otherwise, you will be arrested for and perhaps convicted of Ivan’s murder,” Sister Hildegard, the psychic talking, and then she looked directly at me with the intense eyes of a parochial school nun.
