A VOW OF COMPASSION an utterly gripping crime mystery

by Black, Veronica

  ‘Good morning, Padraic.’ Sister Joan adapted her own face and voice to solemnity. ‘Are the children at home?’

  ‘They went to school.’ Padraic half rose, then sat down again. ‘They wanted to be with their friends and so they ought to be. This is a sad place for children now.’

  ‘Yes indeed.’ Sister Joan refrained from commenting that Edith and Tabitha weren’t likely to mourn very long for a mother who had taken very little notice of them during her lifetime.

  ‘The truth is that in a few days I’ll feel the relief of it,’ Padraic said. ‘No more wondering where she is of an evening when the children are tucked up in bed and I’m not minded to beg a neighbour to keep an eye on them while I go out looking! No more lies, Sister. But right this moment I can only see her when she was a bit of a thing with hair down to her waist and such a pretty laugh! I miss her and she wasn’t often here.’

  ‘Of course you miss her,’ Sister Joan said. ‘We all send our love and sympathy from the community. Sister Perpetua and I will represent the convent at the funeral so if you can let me know the time of it—?’

  ‘Day after tomorrow at eleven. Father Malone has offered to take the service. She was a Catholic, you know.’

  ‘No, I didn’t know.’

  ‘Baptized and everything like the girls,’ he said with a touch of mournful pride. ‘I’m Catholic at Easter and Christmastime but Madge was Catholic to the bone though she never went near a church. It’s a funny world, isn’t it, Sister?’

  ‘It is indeed.’ Sister Joan waited an instant, then said, ‘Your wife was sick you know. That was no lie. Alcoholism is a sickness. She never took any other drugs, did she?’

  ‘What sort of drugs?’ Padraic asked.

  ‘Oh, Ecstasy or LSD or that kind of thing?’

  ‘She never mixed anything with the alcohol. She had that much sense. Why d’ye ask?’

  ‘I heard a rumour that some drugs were being given away or sold — I don’t know which — outside the pub the night before last. If Madge was already — not very well, she might’ve tried one, perhaps?’

  ‘Aye, possibly.’ Padraic looked at her keenly. ‘If she took something extra on top of the drink that might’ve made her noisy, made her smash the window, mightn’t it?’

  ‘Yes. Yes, it’s very likely.’

  ‘But nobody in town would’ve given Madge anything like that,’ he said after a moment’s cogitation. ‘They all knew Madge. Give her a place to sleep it off or some black coffee but not drugs, Sister!’

  ‘Someone from out of town?’

  ‘There’s nobody from out of town selling drugs hereabouts,’ Padraic said. ‘There’s not the money around in a little old place like this. They go to the big towns or to somewhere the colleges are. But I never took her any brandy in, Sister, so they’d best not start blaming me for that!’

  ‘No, of course not, Padraic. I’d better get back to the hospital. Sister Marie had a wisdom tooth out earlier today and I’m due to drive her home again.’

  ‘Is she all right?’ He rose, blinking away some dismal thought of his own. ‘I thought the dentist did teeth.’

  ‘This was a particularly nasty extraction so Mr Tregarron decided to send her to St Keyne’s but it turned out to be fairly straightforward. Will you give my love to Edith and Tabitha?’

  ‘I will surely, Sister. Eleven the day after tomorrow then? In the parish church.’

  ‘Sister Perpetua and I will be there. Oh, is Luther in camp?’

  ‘Not seen him since yesterday,’ Padraic said. ‘He took off last night when we were keening for my Madge.’

  ‘Right then, God bless.’

  Evidently death had scared Luther away. She would’ve liked to ask him more about the lady who had given Madge and himself the foil-wrapped tablets.

  She drove back to the hospital, parked the van in the forecourt and saw a tall figure emerging from the main building.

  ‘Detective Sergeant Mill, how are you? Did your wife like her anniversary gift?’ Mentioning his wife was a kind of defence mechanism. It reminded her that he was married, even if not entirely happily, and that she was a fully professed religious. Otherwise the spark of affection that glowed between them might blaze into something more.

  ‘She put it in the china cabinet. You’re not involved in this, are you, Sister?’

  ‘Involved in what?’

  She was suddenly aware that there were two police cars drawn up before the main building.

  ‘A little girl’s gone missing from the children’s unit,’ he said. ‘Seeing you I assumed that—’

  ‘Sister Marie had a wisdom tooth out this morning. I’m here to take her home again. Which little girl? How?’

  ‘A four-year-old called Amy Foster.’

  ‘The one who was abused by her foster parents? I met her briefly. When did she go?’

  ‘Sometime in the past hour as far as we can tell. The children have their lunch at twelve and afterwards those who aren’t confined to bed go into the garden at the back of the unit if they want to play or they can stay inside with a book. Amy Foster never played with the other children. She used to go into the garden and just sit there, as far as I can tell. Just sit under a bush or a tree and pull up the grass around her. Sometimes she’d bang herself against the tree or scrape her hands along the wall, poor mite! Anyway she went out into the garden today and nobody’s seen her since. They searched for ten minutes and then very sensibly called us.’

  ‘Could she have wandered into the road?’

  ‘Not from the garden. It’s completely enclosed with a fairly high wall around it. The main door of the unit isn’t locked but it’s far too heavy for a child to open and the handle’s too high anyway. Anyway the nurse on duty was at the desk the entire time and says that nobody passed her. The back door leads into the garden and the side door’s kept locked except when the delivery man comes.’

  ‘Perhaps she’s hiding somewhere inside the unit?’

  ‘It doesn’t look like it.’ His dark, winged brows were drawn together into a frown. ‘It isn’t an enormous complex after all — doesn’t cater for more than fifteen or twenty children. It looks as if someone snatched her.’

  ‘Dear God, but I do hope not!’ Sister Joan had paled. ‘One hears such terrible things. What about the foster parents? The ones who originally ill-treated her?’

  ‘Both on remand in gaol,’ he said briefly. ‘The case hasn’t come to trial yet and when it does I’ve my fingers crossed that they’ll both go down for a long stretch. No, unless the child grew wings and soared over the wall there’s no way she left that garden under her own steam. Look, maybe we could have a coffee or something later? Seems ages since we sat down and solved something together. At the moment I’m pretty tied up.’

  ‘There are one or two matters on which I’d appreciate your advice,’ Sister Joan said.

  ‘Right!’ He shot her a glance. ‘Right then! Take Sister Marie home and — today’s no good. I’m going to be tied up here and tomorrow is the chief constable’s annual visit. How about the day after? Or are these matters urgent?’

  ‘No, the day after tomorrow will be fine. It isn’t exactly official business but I’m sure Mother Prioress will give me permission to have a coffee in town.’

  ‘Two thirty at the Swallow Café? If I can’t make it I’ll let you know in good time. Excuse me now!’

  He disappeared rapidly in the direction of the children’s unit. Sister Collet, passing him on her way out, paused irresolutely as she saw Sister Joan and then hurried up to her.

  ‘You’ve heard?’ Under the little starched cap her face was white and strained. ‘I can’t believe it’s happened you know! She had her lunch with the other children — Amy Foster, I mean. She ate it very nicely too. Sister Williams and I were very pleased. Then we took those who wanted to go outside into the garden and Sister Williams went off duty and I was on the front desk.’

  ‘Nobody was supervising the children in the garden?’

>   ‘Sister Meecham was supposed to come over but she was held up and didn’t get here until twenty minutes later. The children were within calling distance and I couldn’t leave the desk. There were only half a dozen outside anyway and there were the eight inside who aren’t ambulatory and might’ve needed something! I told the detective sergeant that it was nobody’s fault! We’re short staffed and we spend our time running, just running, from one section of the hospital to another. It’s a nightmare, Sister!’

  ‘I’m sure you’ll find the little girl,’ Sister Joan said with more optimism than she felt. ‘You can’t blame yourself, Sister.’

  ‘But I was on duty! Sophie Meecham was supposed to join me but she was checking the drugs unit. If she’d been able to get over here on time this might not have happened. The children are none of them terribly sick so she reckoned there wasn’t any particular urgency.’

  ‘I have to go and collect Sister Marie,’ Sister Joan said. ‘If I were you, Sister Collet, I’d sit down quietly with a cup of tea and jot down all the things that happened from the time you gave the children their lunch. Something might have occurred that you hardly noticed at the time but it might prove to be significant later.’

  ‘I’ll do that! Sophie Meecham had better do it too! If she paid more heed to what was going on around here instead of — oh, never mind! Thank you, Sister!’

  Tracy Collet took to her heels and rushed away again. Sister Joan looked after her with a thoughtful expression, then made her own way to the recovery room where she was relieved to find Sister Marie, still with her cheek swollen but with some of the usual sparkle back in her eyes.

  ‘What’s going on, Sister?’ She spoke somewhat indistinctly. ‘There are police here so Sister Warren says.’

  ‘Some administrative muddle,’ Sister Joan said, exchanging a brief glance with the attendant nurse. ‘You’d better cover your mouth with your scarf in case you get a draught in your face. Any special instructions for Sister Perpetua?’

  ‘A mild painkiller every couple of hours until the aching stops and nothing very hot or very cold to drink for the next twenty-four hours,’ Sister Warren said.

  ‘Fine! I’ll tell our infirmarian. Have you got everything?’

  ‘I think so.’ Sister Marie rose, pulling her scarf across her face and shaking hands politely with Sister Warren. ‘Thank you for keeping me company. God bless.’

  Going out to the van again Sister Joan chattered trivialities until Sister Marie was safely ensconced in the passenger seat. Then she spoke briskly, ‘Would you excuse me for a couple of minutes, Sister? I have something to check on.’ She couldn’t possibly drive back to the convent without asking if any trace had been found of that small, sad little girl.

  Constable Petrie was on the reception desk, making notes and looking grave.

  ‘No sign of her?’ Sister Joan pushed open the heavy swing door and went up to him.

  ‘Nothing so far, Sister.’ His pleasant face was weary. ‘This is just the kind of thing we all dread happening. She’s vanished into thin air. Nobody’s seen anything or heard anything. Those children should never have been left unattended in the garden. The trouble is that they’re just toddlers and they didn’t see anything they can tell us about even if there was anything to see. We’ll have to widen the area we’re searching now and that means bringing in extra men if they can be spared from anywhere.’

  ‘Surely there’s some trace of her,’ Sister Joan insisted.

  ‘Nothing. As far as we can tell she went off and sat by the wall. She was picking some flowers. We found a bunch on the grass near where she’d been. Looks as if she dropped it.’

  ‘What kind of flowers?’ Sister Joan asked.

  ‘Wild ones,’ Constable Petrie said. ‘Buttercups and some heather and a couple of dandelions and some trailing fern stuff. Odd that; so far we haven’t seen a single wild flower in that garden. It’s all grass and lilac bushes and a big bed of carnations.’

  SEVEN

  ‘This isn’t just a muddle or something, is it?’ Sister Marie said, as they drove back to the convent. ‘Something serious must’ve happened for the police to be at the hospital.’

  ‘A little girl from the children’s unit is missing,’ Sister Joan said, deciding there was no point in keeping the matter quiet any longer. ‘She wasn’t exactly physically sick but withdrawn and traumatized after ill-treatment. Anyway she’s probably hiding somewhere but they very wisely called the police immediately.’

  ‘Oh, I hope they find her,’ Sister Marie said softly. ‘Will they be asking for your help, Sister?’

  ‘I think the police will handle this very well by themselves,’ Sister Joan said tersely.

  At the convent she deposited Sister Marie in the capable hands of Sister Perpetua and went to find Mother Dorothy who looked up from the essay she was marking with a wry smile.

  ‘Sister Bernadette has a novel way of expressing herself,’ she said. ‘She writes in her latest essay that our vows of chastity, obedience and compassion might be regarded as the big Cs. Rather like a pop group she adds. What did you wish to see me about, Sister?’

  ‘Sister Marie had the tooth out and is in the infirmary now, resting.’

  ‘Good. One doesn’t wish to encourage hypochondria among the community by fussing about minor ailments but in this life nothing is certain. You went over to see Padraic Lee?’

  ‘Yes, Mother Dorothy. The funeral is at eleven the day after tomorrow. Father Malone will be taking the service.’

  ‘God rest her soul!’ Crossing herself the Prioress said, ‘I was not aware that Mrs Lee was a Catholic. That was a failure on our part, Sister. How is Padraic taking it?’

  ‘He mourns for the woman she was when he married her.’

  ‘And if the husband can think of her with tenderness how much more will Our Blessed Lord show compassion! I think that I will attend the funeral myself, Sister, and take Sister Perpetua with me. Since only two of the community habitually attend outside funerals that means you will have to give up your own place.’

  ‘Yes, Mother Prioress.’ Sister Joan added honestly, ‘It’s no great sacrifice because I don’t like funerals very much and I never had much patience with Madge Lee.’

  ‘Compassion, Sister! We are Daughters of Compassion after all! You may drive us down to the church. I have no doubt that Father Malone will offer us both lunch so you may pick us up later on. Is that all?’

  ‘Mother Prioress, you were not easy in your mind about your godmother’s sudden death.’

  ‘That’s true. However, during the time that has elapsed nothing of particular note has come to light, has it?’

  ‘There are certainly irregularities at St Keyne’s,’ Sister Joan said carefully. ‘I don’t know whether or not this is malicious or sheer inefficiency or a mixture of both. I do feel that it might be a good idea to consult Detective Sergeant Mill about it. If he agrees that something requires investigating he has the authority to do it.’

  ‘Which means you wish to call in at the police station while Sister Perpetua and I are at Madge Lee’s funeral?’

  ‘What I think doesn’t really warrant a formal statement yet,’ Sister Joan said. ‘If I might have permission to have a quiet word outside official channels—?’

  ‘The latitude I allow you astonishes me sometimes,’ Mother Dorothy said. ‘Very well, Sister. You may speak to the detective sergeant in some public place. I rely on you not to waste his time with baseless suspicions. Until then you had better go and help your sisters wherever help is needed, and in your spare moments read through these notes on which I’m basing our current discussions on the seven deadly sins, since you have been notable for your absences from our little gatherings.’

  Sister Joan took the file of neatly typed notes meekly, made her farewell salutation and withdrew. Her absences from the discussions hadn’t been of her own choosing, she thought crossly. She seemed to spend hours recently driving up and down between hospital, Romany camp and convent. It w
asn’t like Mother Prioress to be so manifestly unfair, a sure sign that she too felt an inward unease that refused to depart.

  She was halfway to her cell when she remembered and scooted back down the staircase, almost cannoning into the Prioress as the latter emerged from her parlour.

  ‘Sister Joan! Nuns don’t run unless it’s a matter of life and death! Is it?’ Mother Dorothy demanded.

  ‘No, Mother. I merely forgot to tell you that a little girl has disappeared from St Keyne’s,’ Sister Joan said breathlessly. ‘The police are looking for her.’

  ‘Thank you, Sister. I’ll ring the station myself later to find out what happened. You had better spend this evening’s recreation period getting your spiritual diary up to date with particular reference to your slapdash habits. Dominus vobiscum.’

  ‘Et cum spiritu sancto,’ Sister Joan said gloomily.

  At recreation which followed supper she excused herself and slipped away up to the library where she could catch up on her spiritual reading and writing, never an occupation which cheered her up very much because her own jottings struck her as materialistic and banal in the extreme and Mother Dorothy’s careful arguments laid out with clarity in her notes merely served to remind her that she had a long way to go. When the bell went for the final service of the day she slipped down and took her usual place, noting that Sister Marie had evidently been bundled off to bed and that Sister Mary Concepta looked frailer than ever. There was every likelihood that she would have to go into the hospital soon for another heart check-up, itself an excellent reason to find out exactly what was going on there.

  ‘You will be sorry to hear that a four-year-old girl was apparently taken from St Keyne’s Hospital earlier today.’ Making the announcement the Prioress sounded gravely troubled. Evidently her call to the police station had brought her scant comfort.

  ‘Since we are about to enter into the grand silence there can be no discussion of this until tomorrow,’ Mother Dorothy was continuing, ‘and it is in the highest degree unlikely that the child is on convent property. Nevertheless I have assured Constable Petrie that in the morning we will search the house and grounds thoroughly if the little girl hasn’t been found. We will say an extra decade of the rosary and offer it to the police authorities that they may be successful in their search and bring it to a happy conclusion. Let us pray. Hail Mary, full of grace—’