The Pinch of Death – a mystery by Alysse Aallyn

Chapter 18. Monastics

The engagement book continued three clues and three clues only – the name “Benson” every Thursday for the past two months and the address of a “LeRoi” in Brooklyn on the day Jacquetta and Miss Rainbeaux met. That’s what she was coming back from on the train, Jacquetta thought, whatever it was, that’s what sparked her mood. It must be significant – she died immediately afterwards.

But the other clue was the moniker “Kleinemann-Lundt” scribbled – in a different pen – the same day as LeRoi. There were no further identifications to help her find “Benson” or “Kleinemann-Lundt” and the phone book couldn’t help her. Miss Rainbeaux seemed to use this book as more of a spiritual journal. She visited a different church weekly and wrote extensively about them in a crabbed hand.

It must have been after two in the morning when Jacquetta drifted off, so that when she placed her call to the convent at nine a.m. precisely, she was just embarking on that first eye-opening cup of coffee.

“Holy Calvary,” barked a busy voice.

“This is Jacquetta Strike.” Jacquetta was not able to keep the nervousness out of her throat. “Am I speaking to Sister Theela?”

“No, this is Sister Elgarde. Are you that wandering postulant that’s got Mother in a swivet?”

Oh, this sounded bad. Jacquetta felt like a catechism-failing ten-year-old.

“I guess I am,” said Jacquetta. “It’s that a friend of mine died – “

“You wait right here,” said Sister Elgarde. “Mother said if you were to call I should get her immediately.”

There was a sound of plastic hitting rock – just like a phone being dropped on a marble floor. Oh God, prayed Jacquetta. Mother Xavier was such an intimidating woman!

After several long moments of dread, the familiar voice barked, “What’s the hold-up?”

Jacquetta, who never cried, felt tears starting at the back of her throat. “A friend of mine has been murdered,” she averred. “Everyone else thinks it was suicide but that’s impossible. She mentioned me in her will. I don’t exactly know what to do but I know I have to do something.”

“What you have to do,” insisted Mother Xavier, “is pass the cares of the world to the persons whose purview those are, I would say, in this case, the police. Can you do that?”

“I’ll try,” said Jacquetta.

“If you can’t do that, then you don’t belong here. Let’s make an appointment, shall we? Wednesday at three o’clock tea? Or would Friday better suit?”

“Friday,” said Jacquetta faintly. A week! A long, glorious week! One could accomplish anything in a week!

“Did you get that, Sister Elgarde?” asked Mother. “If so I’m ringing off.”

Jacquetta was a bit startled to find herself in a three-way conversation.

“Then I’ll be seeing you,” she said formally. “You too, Sister Elgarde.”

“I suppose there’s no help for it,” snapped the sister.