Free Sanctuary by Ken Bruen

it, but I said, ‘Some bottled water might be good.’
    He brought that, had a mug of some herbal stuff for himself and without preamble launched in. ‘She has a brother, and on a hunch – isn’t that what you
detectives
call them? – I went to his home, rang the bell and heard a woman say, “Come on in, the door is open.” It was. The same voice said, “I’m upstairs.” I was halfway up when out of nowhere she hit me with something – a hurley, do nuns play hurling? Maybe a hockey stick. Hurt though.’
    I had no comment so he continued in almost a bantering tone, ‘I did what you do, I fell down thestairs. I couldn’t see, but I could sense her standing over me, and then she sprinkled what she said was holy water over me, to cleanse me. Oh, she had a knife – lethal-looking thing – and looked like she was about to – how should I put it? – finish the job, when her head turned, as if she was listening to someone. Then she said, “Your time has not yet come.” And she blessed me in Latin – that really helped. I tell you, Jack, whoever spoke to her, God freaking bless ’em.’
    He let me digest that and then added, ‘I had me one serious headache for a few days. Oh . . . and she stole my phone. Isn’t that, like, against nuns’ rules?’
    â€˜I’m so sorry.’
    He gave what could have been a laugh and said, ‘Odd, she said the same thing – that she was sorry.’
    â€˜What can I do?’
    He seemed to be checking the various permutations of that, then said, ‘Go find her.’
    I stood up, tried again. ‘It’s my fault, Stewart.’
    I was at the door before he said, ‘Isn’t it always?’

 
    Â 
20

Sisters in Arms
    Â 
    Â 
    I finally kicked into gear. It was like I was so caught up in so many mind storms, any instincts I ever had were closed down. But now a thought hit me. I rang Stewart and he answered with, ‘Already?
    He sounded testy, the Zen not up to its usual standard or more than likely, me.
    I said, ‘Sorry to be a nuisance, but when you went to see the Mother Superior, did she mention our psycho friend being close to any other nun in the convent?’
    â€˜I did take some notes after. Give me a moment.’
    I tried to curb my impatience and then he was back. ‘Good thinking, Jack. She was tight with a Sister Maeve, though I don’t know, can you say nuns are
tight
?’
    Tight
is frequently used in Ireland to describe someone who’s either mean or drunk, sometimes both. Few things worse, I suppose, than a tight drunk.
    I said, ‘Depends whether they were drinking buddies.’
    He ignored that, said, ‘Sister Maeve teaches in the Mercy Primary School and that’s located—’
    I cut him off, snapped, ‘I know where the fucking school is.’
    There was an intake of breath and then he said, ‘Real pleasure to help you, Jack, you’re so grateful.’
    And he rung off.

 
    Â 
21

Lord Have Mercy
    Â 
    Â 
    I headed for the Mercy.
    And I know,
mercy
seemed to be a scarce commodity, like clean water.
    Nuns as teachers were becoming a rarity – most of the schools used lay people now. I headed for the admin office and a very friendly young lady behind a desk gave me a nice smile and asked, ‘Might I help you?’
    Niceness confuses me. I’m so accustomed to barbed banter that genuine warmth throws me. I gave her my best smile back, hoped it didn’t look too much like a grimace, and asked, ‘Would it be possible to see Sister Maeve?’
    She picked up the phone. ‘Might I ask what it’s in connection with?’
    â€˜We’re having a fundraiser and her name came up as someone who might suggest the most deserving charitable causes.’
    Another lovely smile. ‘Oh, she’s the best fundraiser. Everyone consults with Sister Maeve.’
    My