Breakfast, Saturday, October 7, 1950
The Rutherford house
Henry made it to the dining room by seven forty-five, freshly shaved and dressed.
“Something smells wonderful,” he said as he entered.
“Looks like Miss Grant is a good cook,” Skip said. “Eggs, bacon, hash browns, orange juice, coffee, coffee cake, strudel, and more all on the sideboard. I was tempted to start without you. Your uncle decided to eat in the library because of his ankle and have a tray brought in, and apparently, Miss Grant will take a tray up to his mother’s room per usual.”
“I see. What about Sister Barnabas?” Henry said.
“I haven’t seen or heard from her yet.”
“Well, no sense in waiting any longer. Let’s eat.”
“Sounds good to me, mister.”
Each of them filled a large plate, and Henry put bread in the toaster for them. When it was done, he extracted it carefully using the silver tongs provided and brought it to the table, where homemade jam and butter awaited. When they’d nearly finished eating, Sister Barnabas came in from the hall, moving slowly along from side to side, as usual. Henry and Skip got to their feet. “Good morning, Sister.”
“Good morning, gentlemen, I trust you both slept well,” she said, looking at them over the top of her glasses once more.
“Yes, thank you, more or less, and you?” Henry said.
“I did, I usually do. Please sit, I can serve myself,” she said, moving over to the sideboard as Skip and Henry sat back down.
“Nothing disturbed you, Sister? Say around three in the morning?”
She turned slightly to look at Skip. “Disturbed me? No, nothing. I slept soundly. Why?”
“Mr. Finch and I were both woken up by a strange noise,” Skip said, watching her face.
“What kind of a noise?”
“A dog barking and someone pounding.”
The nun moved back to the buffet. “How odd. There are no dogs in the neighborhood that I’m aware of, none close by anyway, and I can’t imagine why anyone would be pounding so early in the morning. My, the bacon looks delicious, nice and crisp.”
“Did you hear about Mr. Rutherford’s accident?” Henry said. “The one on the stairs this morning?”
She kept her back to them as she placed various food items onto her plate. “Miss Grant informed me when I’d finished bathing Mrs. Rutherford. How unfortunate. Though two accidents so close together does make one wonder. I’m glad once again he wasn’t badly injured.”
“Yes, he was lucky,” Skip said. “What does it make you wonder, Sister?”
“About what God is thinking, of course.”
Skip leaned back in his chair. “Not exactly what I was wondering. May I pour you some coffee?”
The sister turned around, a full plate in hand, and sat at the table. “Yes, thank you. Black.”
Skip poured a cup and handed it to her.
“Thank you,” she said, glancing at Skip and Henry’s plates. “It appears as though you two are all finished eating.”
“Yes, but we don’t mind keeping you company,” Henry said.
“Oh, how nice.”
“But, uh, we need to get going, Henry. We’ve lots to do.”
“We do?”
“Yes,” Skip said firmly.
“Don’t worry about me,” Sister Barnabas said. “Go and do what you need to do. I’ll be fine.”
“All right, we’ll see you at lunch, Sister,” Henry said, rising to his feet, with Skip following suit.
“Miss Grant is serving meatloaf, I believe,” she said, taking a sip of her coffee and a forkful of scrambled eggs. “Not one of her better dishes, but I’m sure it will be fine. Enjoy your morning.”
“And you as well,” Skip said as he and Henry exited the dining room.
“What are all these things we need to do, Skip?”
“A nice, long walk, for one, but I need to get my hat first. Let’s go back upstairs.”
“I’ll wait here. My hat’s still hanging by the front door in the entryway.”
Skip frowned. “I’d appreciate it if you’d accompany me upstairs.”
Henry looked at him curiously but didn’t argue. “Okay, let’s go.”
At the top of the stairs, Skip paused. “Wait right here, Henry, okay? I need to use the bathroom first.”
“All right, but hurry up,” Henry said. Skip went back down the four steps to the landing and proceeded through the small hall into the bathroom, locking the door and turning on the overhead light. The cabinet above the sink was still locked. It was the old-fashioned kind, mounted to the wall and painted white. Skip tried the nail file first, but its end was too big for the keyhole. The paper clip was just the right size but hard to maneuver, and the angle wasn’t the best. At last, he hitched up his trousers and sat on the sink, finding that to be much better. In three clicks, the cabinet swung open, revealing an assortment of bottles and thingamabobs, as well as a toothbrush, toothpowder in a tin, lipstick, a compact, nail polish, and some rouge. There was a bottle of hair dye, too, but what caught his attention the most was a clear glass bottle with a metal screw cap, its label missing. Inside was a silvery liquid that shimmied around when he shook it. He placed everything back where he found it and closed the cabinet door. Skip wiggled the paper clip back and forth, up and down, and back and forth again until finally, he heard a click. Sliding off the sink onto the floor, he gave the knob a gentle tug, and it didn’t budge. Satisfied, he gave the toilet a flush, ran the water in the sink, stepped out the door, and went back up the four steps to the hall.
“All set?” Henry said.
“Yes.”
“Good, then get your hat, and let’s go.”
The two of them walked to Skip’s door.
“If you see or hear anyone coming while I’m in there, knock three times. Our signal, remember?” Skip said.
“Huh? Why?” Henry said, puzzled.
“Because I need a lookout, silly.”
“To get your hat?”
“Because I want to have a peek about in Sister Barnabas’s bedroom.”
“What for?”
“If I knew, I wouldn’t have to look. But there’s something odd about her. I dreamed of her last night. Plus, she was conveniently in the blue drawing room right before the chandelier incident, remember?”
“Skip, you’re going to get us both in trouble. Nuns aren’t creepy, they’re well-mannered and helpful, and pure and kind.”
“Clearly you didn’t go to a Catholic school,” Skip said.
“Chicago public schools, all the way.”
“And you probably got a much better education.”
“You can’t go snooping about her room. It’s not right.”
“If she’s what she says she is, she has nothing to hide. Did you notice anything odd about her at the breakfast table?”
Henry thought a moment. “No, why? What did you notice?”
“For one thing, I don’t like the way she’s always staring at us over the top of her glasses. And for another, she didn’t say grace, genuflect, or pray before starting to eat. Doesn’t that strike you as unusual?”
“Maybe she just forgot, or did it silently because we were there.”
Skip rolled his eyes. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, just wait out here in the hall. If anyone comes, especially her, knock three times on my door. Got it?”
“Got it. Oh, bother. Hurry up and don’t be long.”
“I won’t, I promise.”
Skip glanced about to make sure no one was in sight, then gave Henry a peck on the cheek before disappearing into his bedroom. He extracted the paper clip and nail file from his pocket once more and picked the lock to Sister Barnabas’s room fairly easily. The room was almost square in shape, with the door to the hall on the back wall, three windows overlooking the balcony, and a single door on the opposite wall in the front corner. Skip walked over to that door as quietly as he could, cringing every time the wood floor creaked. It was unlocked and he opened it slowly, cautiously peering in at what he discovered was Mrs. Rutherford’s room. Fortunately, she wasn’t visible. Skip closed the door again as quietly as he could and moved to one on the opposite side of the room, but this one was locked. The nail file did the job this time, and it soon swung open silently. Skip found himself staring at an assortment of colorful dresses, blouses, skirts, and other fashion apparel. On the floor were several pairs of stylish shoes. He turned around and inspected the rest of the room carefully, but found nothing else out of the ordinary.
* * *
Meanwhile, Henry was pacing back and forth in the hallway when he saw a shadow over the railing on the stairs. It was Sister Barnabas. Quickly he knocked and pounded three times upon Skip’s bedroom door. Hoping he’d heard him, he looked back at the stairs as she reached the first landing, carrying her glasses in her hand.
“Sister,” he called down to her loudly, “finished with your breakfast so soon?”
“I wasn’t as hungry as I thought, Mr. Finch,” she said, as she started slowly up the second run of stairs toward him, grasping the handrail and using it to haul herself up. “And I’m afraid I have another headache. They’ve become frequent and bothersome lately. It might be these glasses,” she said, putting them back on.
“I’m sorry to hear that. Perhaps some fresh air or a morning stroll,” he said.
“No, just a cool compress, some aspirin, and a lie-down with my glasses off will help. Are you waiting for Mr. Valentine?”
“What? Er, yes, he had to get his hat. He should be out soon. We’re going to go for a walk and explore the neighborhood.”
“I heard there’s a football game today. Best to avoid downtown or the stadium area.”
“Good to know, thanks.” He turned and pounded three more times.
“Why are you knocking so hard? You’ll disturb Mrs. Rutherford, and you’re making my headache worse,” she scolded. She was on the second landing now, breathing heavily.
“Sorry. Going to your room, then, Sister?” Henry said as loudly as he could.
“Yes, I find that’s a good place to lie down. As soon as I get some aspirin from the bathroom. And I’m not deaf, Mr. Finch, though perhaps you should have your hearing checked.”
“Yes, perhaps so. Hearing loss seems to run in my family, you know,” Henry said, almost shouting. “It comes and goes.” He was stalling for time as best he could and hoping Skip could hear him.
* * *
Skip had heard the pounding the first time, and the second time wasn’t helping his nerves. He had scurried back into his room, but it dawned on him he had left the closet door unlocked. Quickly he ducked back inside and over to the closet, closing the door as quietly as possible and once more using the nail file to relock the lock. Then he dashed back into his room, securing the connecting door just as he heard the hall door to Sister Barnabas’s room open and close.
When he stepped out into the hall a minute later, straw hat in hand, Henry breathed a sigh of relief and wiped a bead of sweat off his brow with his handkerchief. Sister Barnabas was nowhere to be seen. “You practically gave me a heart attack, Valentine,” he said, much softer now. “She got her aspirin and went back to her room. What were you doing in there for so long?”
“I’ll tell you all about it on our walk.”
“All right, let’s go,” Henry said.
Sister Barnabas opened her bedroom door and peeked out at them over the top of her glasses. “Excuse me, gentlemen, but if you two are going for a walk, I wonder if you’d be so kind as to pick up some cigarettes for Mr. Rutherford? I told him I would get them for him, but I’m afraid I’m not feeling up to it now that I have this headache again.”
“Certainly, we’d be glad to,” Henry said.
“Thank you. Mr. Rutherford will reimburse you. He smokes Lucky Strikes. You are going out, then, aren’t you?”
“Yes, we’re just leaving,” Skip said.
“There’s a drugstore about six blocks south from here, just off Packard on the corner, past Shadford Road. You can’t miss it.”
“Okay. Let’s go, Skip. Good day, Sister,” Henry said.
“Good day,” Sister Barnabas said. She watched them go down until they were out of sight, and then retreated into her room again, closing the door.