touching it. And she wasn’t much of a drinker. He’d finished the bottle of wine with little help. He’d had a cup of coffee with dessert, a sugary concoction that was much too rich. His stomach turned at the thought of anything more.
“Father Ruffino has asked for my assistance in checking on the progress of the investigation concerning Sister Claire’s death,” Father Borelli told the investigator. A lie. Beppe had not asked him to come and would not be happy to know that he had. “It has disturbed him terribly and I want to do what I can to help.”
“You’ve come from Italy?” the investigator asked.
“Father Ruffino and I have been friends for many years.” Giovanni explained how they had grown up together, and maintained their close friendship through the years, though he had been assigned various duties in Rome, while his friend had joined the Carmelites, working in Italy, at an African mission, then in Prague.
Investigator Damek listened affably, nodding as the priest carried on longer than was probably necessary to establish his credibility as a true confidant of the prior of Our Lady Victorious.
“I spoke with Father Ruffino just moments ago,” Investigator Damek said, “to let him know the autopsy report should be available sometime this afternoon or tomorrow morning. I thought perhaps he had called you to let you know.”
Borelli’s heart jumped. If the investigator had called Father Ruffino, had he mentioned Father Borelli setting up this appointment?
“I was lunching with a friend,” Borelli explained. “I’m afraid I’m rather old-fashioned in that I do not carry a mobile phone. He had no way of contacting me.”
“I see,” the investigator said slowly, thoughtfully. He turned, opened an overstuffed glass-fronted file cabinet, one of many along a faded green wall, and pulled out a file. Boxes were stacked about the room as if someone had just moved in or was preparing to move out.
“As soon as the report comes in,” Damek said, “we should be able to release the body. At the present time there is no reason to believe there was any criminal wrongdoing.”
“Nothing suspicious discovered in the church?” Father Borelli asked, trying to calm his voice, attempting to get a closer look at the file. Upside down, he could not read the report, other than the date and time. Early the morning of Good Friday, just as Beppe had told him. He could see the file contained several pages.
“Nothing missing, no damage,” Investigator Damek replied. “I myself, along with Father Ruffino, did a thorough search of the building.” His fingers combed quickly through his thick brown hair, which Borelli observed could use a trim. “As I told Father Ruffino when I came to the church, I suspected Sister Claire died of natural causes.”
Beppe had said nothing of this, Giovanni was sure. He had most definitely led Giovanni to believe the nun had been murdered. Yet, was the investigator now telling Father Borelli that he suspected from the beginning there was no murder?
Investigator Damek unceremoniously unbuttoned one cuff, then the other, and pushed his sleeves up to reveal muscular arms, which he rested casually on his desk. “It is my understanding that the prioress would like the funeral services and burial to take place Saturday.” He glanced at a calendar on his desk. “This request shouldn’t present a problem.” He closed the folder. The finality of this action seemed to say,
Case closed
. “May I help you with anything else?”
Giovanni wondered if Beppe had shared with the police
anything
about Sister Claire’s speaking to him. She was dead by the time the investigator arrived at the church.
“I’ll be staying several days. I’d originally scheduled this visit to the city as a holiday, but this . . . unfortunate loss of Sister Claire . . . has come up unexpectedly. I just want to be here to assist Father in any way that I can.”
“Everything has been taken care
“Father Ruffino has asked for my assistance in checking on the progress of the investigation concerning Sister Claire’s death,” Father Borelli told the investigator. A lie. Beppe had not asked him to come and would not be happy to know that he had. “It has disturbed him terribly and I want to do what I can to help.”
“You’ve come from Italy?” the investigator asked.
“Father Ruffino and I have been friends for many years.” Giovanni explained how they had grown up together, and maintained their close friendship through the years, though he had been assigned various duties in Rome, while his friend had joined the Carmelites, working in Italy, at an African mission, then in Prague.
Investigator Damek listened affably, nodding as the priest carried on longer than was probably necessary to establish his credibility as a true confidant of the prior of Our Lady Victorious.
“I spoke with Father Ruffino just moments ago,” Investigator Damek said, “to let him know the autopsy report should be available sometime this afternoon or tomorrow morning. I thought perhaps he had called you to let you know.”
Borelli’s heart jumped. If the investigator had called Father Ruffino, had he mentioned Father Borelli setting up this appointment?
“I was lunching with a friend,” Borelli explained. “I’m afraid I’m rather old-fashioned in that I do not carry a mobile phone. He had no way of contacting me.”
“I see,” the investigator said slowly, thoughtfully. He turned, opened an overstuffed glass-fronted file cabinet, one of many along a faded green wall, and pulled out a file. Boxes were stacked about the room as if someone had just moved in or was preparing to move out.
“As soon as the report comes in,” Damek said, “we should be able to release the body. At the present time there is no reason to believe there was any criminal wrongdoing.”
“Nothing suspicious discovered in the church?” Father Borelli asked, trying to calm his voice, attempting to get a closer look at the file. Upside down, he could not read the report, other than the date and time. Early the morning of Good Friday, just as Beppe had told him. He could see the file contained several pages.
“Nothing missing, no damage,” Investigator Damek replied. “I myself, along with Father Ruffino, did a thorough search of the building.” His fingers combed quickly through his thick brown hair, which Borelli observed could use a trim. “As I told Father Ruffino when I came to the church, I suspected Sister Claire died of natural causes.”
Beppe had said nothing of this, Giovanni was sure. He had most definitely led Giovanni to believe the nun had been murdered. Yet, was the investigator now telling Father Borelli that he suspected from the beginning there was no murder?
Investigator Damek unceremoniously unbuttoned one cuff, then the other, and pushed his sleeves up to reveal muscular arms, which he rested casually on his desk. “It is my understanding that the prioress would like the funeral services and burial to take place Saturday.” He glanced at a calendar on his desk. “This request shouldn’t present a problem.” He closed the folder. The finality of this action seemed to say,
Case closed
. “May I help you with anything else?”
Giovanni wondered if Beppe had shared with the police
anything
about Sister Claire’s speaking to him. She was dead by the time the investigator arrived at the church.
“I’ll be staying several days. I’d originally scheduled this visit to the city as a holiday, but this . . . unfortunate loss of Sister Claire . . . has come up unexpectedly. I just want to be here to assist Father in any way that I can.”
“Everything has been taken care
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