It was the first time in anyone’s memory that classes at the college had been cancelled. Rescheduled, yes. But cancelled-never! Sister Cecilia had made the announcement with a quivering voice.
A heavy, silent gloom hung over the deserted campus. The largest gray stone building loomed on the hilltop like an abandoned castle left to ruin. The gargoyles set in the majestic stonework frowned into space. Even the bright yellow primroses bordering the formal gardens drooped.
Sister Therese was desolate. Not a single soul, not even Mary Helen, ventured to mention her novena. “A despicable day in the history of this college,” Therese had proclaimed at breakfast. No one had disagreed.
Unfortunately, someone had forgotten to inform the sun. It rose gloriously cheerful “with all his beams full-dazzling.” Mary Helen stepped out of the Sisters’ Residence. She watched the warm, golden halo cover the hill and make it sparkle. Where in the world was the fog when you needed it?
She stretched. In spite of everything, she had slept soundly. What was it Cervantes had written? “So long as I am asleep, I have neither fear nor hope, trouble nor glory.” Yet, she woke still tired. Slowly, she rambled up the driveway. Every part of her hurt. You can’t expect to roll down a hill at your age, old girl, and never feel a twinge, she had reminded herself this morning when she pulled her two stiff knees out of bed.
The dirt path was still cordoned off. Several official-looking cars parked along the driveway reminded her that the Crime Lab was still at work. Probably sifting through tons of dirt looking for-she wasn’t sure what. Clues, no doubt, to link someone with these heinous murders. What a job, she thought, peering down the embankment.
It was difficult-no, impossible-to see what the men were doing from the driveway. Mary Helen pulled up the thick rope and was just about to duck under when she heard Eileen call her name.
“For the love of all that’s good and holy, you aren’t going in there, are you?” Eileen’s gray eyes registered horror.
Mary Helen released the rope. “Don’t be ridiculous!”
“We are both wanted in the parlor. It’s Kate Murphy,” Eileen announced, watching the rope bounce.
“I wonder what she wants.”
“I have no idea. But they have a saying in the old country which I think fits this situation perfectly. ‘Just keep a cool head and dry pants, and you’ll be fine.’ ”
Mary Helen stared at her friend. In all the years she’d known Eileen, she had never heard her quote that saying before. But these were quite unusual times!
The two hurried down the driveway. Mary Helen was puffing by the time she and Eileen sank into the overstuffed parlor couch.
“Good morning, Sisters.” Every freckle stood out on Kate Murphy’s white face. Her eyes, red-rimmed from lack of sleep, shifted uneasily. “I have some good news and some bad news.”
“Let’s hear the good news first.” Eileen leaned over and patted Kate’s hand. You could always count on Eileen to be optimistic. Mary Helen wished they would rid themselves of the bad news first.
“Well, we questioned Tony for hours. Gallagher and I. First, I played the good guy, he was the tough cop. Then we switched. Finally, Tony broke. I think he was actually glad to get it off his chest. It’s some story.”
The two nuns inched up to the edge of the couch waiting for Kate to continue.
“Seems you were right all along, Sister Mary Helen. The professor, this Sebastiao business, and Joanna were all tied in. Apparently, Professor Villanueva was a real bast…” She caught herself. “A character. Made trips to the old country. Put himself up as a savior.
“That Dom Sebastiao-reincarnated business you were telling me about. It’s a screwy cult that never seems to quite die out in Portugal. It rises every so often among the young men who can’t help hoping that Sebastiao will return and lead the country to glory, plus take a few of them along on his coat tails. Guess it happens every place.
“Anyway, this guy convinced them that he was their ticket to fame and riches. They could really make something of themselves. First thing he did was bring them to the U.S. without benefit of the Immigration Department.”
“And all for a price, you can be sure.” Eileen shook her head disapprovingly.
“Quite a price, we found out from Luis, your janitor. What he didn’t tell us was that none of them could afford the whole thing, so they had to borrow from the professor, at a huge interest. They would be working to pay him back for years and years.
Eileen could hardly believe it. “Sounds like a combination of loan shark and indentured servant,” she said.
“And the men he duped were only a beginning. If he could bring three or four more over every year and have them repay him, with all the money tax free, in no time at all the man would have a very lucrative business going.
“But these guys were merely poor, not stupid. They weren’t here very long before they realized they were getting nowhere fast. They began to demand a little something back and adeus!” Kate pulled her forefinger across her throat.
“Himself?” Mary Helen was aghast to think of the meticulously groomed professor with the practiced smile slitting someone’s throat.
Kate shook her head. “Dirty his fingernails? Never! He had Tony take care of it. Stalk, kill, and bury. All for one fee.”
“Why Tony?”
“Seems Tony killed a man in a drunken brawl in Santa Clara. At least, the professor told him he had. Tony couldn’t remember. We’ll have to check it out. Villanueva claimed he covered up for him, so the professor had Tony right where he wanted him. The guy was desperate. I don’t think his heart was ever really in it.”
“And there is no accuser so terrible as the conscience that dwells in the heart of every man.” Sister Mary Helen remembered some Roman or other had said that in the first century, but she couldn’t, for the life of her, remember which one.
Eileen shuddered. “Why would anyone in his right mind do such a thing?”
“Simple,” Kate said. “Greed.”
Lucre, Mary Helen thought, relieved the motive wasn’t loathing. All along, Leonel had weighed a little heavily on the loathing. She really should not have worried, however. She had seen it all in the eyes: the professor’s, Leonel’s, and finally, Tony’s. Those fifty years in the classroom had, indeed, stood her in good stead. One good look, and she could spot innocence or malevolence instantly. She was glad she hadn’t lost her touch!
“Have you identified the bodies yet?” Mary Helen asked.
“Not officially. But Tony told us who they were. By the way, I’d appreciate it if tomorrow you could go with me to see Senhora Rubiero.”
“Her two nephews?” Mary Helen sucked in her breath.
“Plus the two Manuels we were looking for.”
“How does Joanna fit in?” Eileen asked.
“Joanna and her sister were a different story. They did have legal papers. For some reason, the professor didn’t want to mess with them.”
“Leonel did mention that in the village, they were richer and better educated than most,” Mary Helen said.
“Maybe the professor was afraid the family would make trouble.”
“He couldn’t exploit them nor blow his cover by not sponsoring them.” Mary Helen was getting into the spirit of the thing.
“Anyway. It was Joanna’s thesis on Portuguese immigrants that got her into trouble. When she went looking for primary sources and how well her subjects adjusted to life in the United States, she found out too much for her own good.”
“We’ll never know exactly what made her suspicious,” Mary Helen said. “All the copies have disappeared.
“Even my library copy,” Eileen added.
“I suppose he thought that if Joanna could stumble onto his scheme, someone else reading the thesis might do the same.”
Kate nodded.
“Anyway, after the thesis was finished, she decided to do something about the abuses. When she went back to find these fellows for the second time, they had disappeared.”
“And of course, she got suspicious-went to check it out with the relatives.”
“The little dots on her list!” Eileen beamed.
“Right. What Kevin Doherty told you was correct. When Joanna went to see Senhora Rubiero, she finally realized something was not jibing. She probably guessed what it was. Unfortunately, she told her suspicions to Tony.” Kate faced Sister Mary Helen. “As a matter of fact, the day you saw him kiss her, she had just come upon him digging a grave.”
“For whom?” Mary Helen could feel a tingle race up her spine.
“For Leonel,” she said. “Tony tried to persuade her to join him. You were right, Sister. She hated Tony. So he had no choice but to kill her. She knew that.”
“And is that why the poor girl disappeared?” Eileen asked.
“Yes. She was scared to death. And with good reason. Knew he’d look for her at home. So she must have gone into hiding.
“Then she made her fatal mistake.”
“What was that?”
“Instead of calling us, she came back to the college. We don’t know why. Tony came upon her, bashed her skull with his shovel. Didn’t have time for his usual throat-slitting. Waited all day to stuff her body in the chapel.”
Eileen gasped. “Then that’s who I must have seen on the hillside,” she said. “Do you remember?” She turned toward her friend. “It was the foggy morning we were going to see Leonel in jail. If we had only…”
“There’s lots of ‘ifs,’ Sister,” Kate said.
Mary Helen eased herself back into a more comfortable position. She felt drained. “Why didn’t he just bury her with the rest?” she asked.
“This part is hard to swallow, but he loved her and wanted her to be buried in the Church. Funeral Mass, Christian burial, the whole schmeer.”
“I guess no one is all bad.” Eileen blinked.
“And the chip of paint?”
“The lab is still checking it out. Probably from the professor’s car. These guys had their own hearse service.”
“But then, why the professor? Why kill the hand that feeds you?” Mary Helen twisted the old adage a bit, but the point was clear.
“That’s the bad news. Tony claims, vehemently, that he did not kill the professor.”
“Maybe it was an accident, then?”
“No. Coroner says that’s impossible.”
A sharp, unsettling pain shot through the bottom of Sister Mary Helen’s stomach, like the end of an elevator ride. So her worst fears were true. There were two murderers! “Who do you think it is, then?”
Before Kate could answer, a soft, persistent knocking began on the parlor door. Cautiously, Mary Helen opened it.
Anne, eyes bleary, black hair uncombed, stood with her slender arm around Marina. The young woman, her delicate face drawn, fumbled with a wadded Kleenex. Her eyes were swollen from crying. Anne eased her into the room. “Marina has something to tell you,” she said.
“I killed him,” Marina blurted out before anyone had time even to ask What?”
“Killed whom?” Kate asked softly.
“Professor Villanueva!”
Methodically, Kate read Marina her rights.
“But I want to tell you about it,” Marina burst in. Her face looked set in stone. “I did it. I killed him. That animal wanted to destroy my Leonel.”
“Did you know this?” Kate turned toward Sister Anne.
“Not till last night. Marina had to tell someone.”
“Why didn’t you call me immediately?”
“It was a confidence. Believe me, I wrestled with it all night. This morning I persuaded Marina to tell you.” Anne glanced at the young woman. “May I?”
Marina nodded her head. “Go ahead,” Kate said.
“Seems our Professor Villanueva had helped Leonel emigrate. Promised him Marina,” she said. “When Leonel came to talk to the professor about the papers that would enable him to marry legally in this country, he hedged. Leonel became suspicious. Not only of him and his dealings, but of what had happened to his friends from home. Joanna had mentioned something to him. Anyway, the night of the earthquake, he and Marina had decided to confront Villanueva. Lionel became violently angry, lunged for the man’s throat. The professor pulled a knife. He meant to use it. Marina was behind, and bashed him with the first thing handy. The statue. Leonel grabbed it from her to strike again, but just then the earthquake hit.”
Standing there, mutely, next to Anne, Marina looked so fragile, so helpless. Yet Mary Helen remembered her strong hands and that glint of steel in her eyes. She had needed that strength to kill, not like Cain and Abel, but more like David slaying the giant Goliath. The scene in the professor’s office must have been horrible!
And the presence she had sensed in the darkened hallway. Why, that had been Leonel, of course.
“Why didn’t they say something sooner?” Kate asked.
“Frightened of the police, of the system, of deportation.” Anne looked at Marina tenderly. “They decided the earthquake was an act of God. They left the statue on the ground, but were so distraught they totally forgot the prints.”
“And the knife? What happened to the knife?”
“Leonel just slipped it back in a kitchen drawer with all the other knives.”
“I’m sure they would have come to the police eventually,” Anne said. “In fact, after the professor’s death, they went through his office trying to find a copy of Joanna’s thesis, but all the copies had been destroyed.”
Mary Helen fidgeted uncomfortably. “What will happen now?” she asked, eager to get off the subject of the professor’s office. No sense in bringing that up.
“I don’t know. It will be up to the D.A. and the Immigration Service.” Kate stood up. “I’ll have to take her in,” she said gently.
For a moment, Marina cringed in the corner like a frightened child, but only for a moment. Then, squaring her shoulders, she wiped her eyes and stepped forward. Mary Helen recognized a survivor. Good for her!