Bad Catholics by James Green Page A

someone would have been waiting.’
    â€˜It looks like one day someone was. Anyway, what did she do?’
    â€˜She got an old Skoda, a dreadful old heap but she was proud of it.’
    â€˜She was proud because she’d bought a heap?’
    â€˜Can you see anyone bothering to hot-wire an old Skoda? Who would want it? She even left it unlocked so no one needed to break a window to get in, not that there was ever anything inside. That car could have sat there unlocked for ever. The worst thing that might happen would be somebody sleeping in it, but only if all the local doorways were already occupied.’
    Inspector Deal sat back. The nun was dead right about the car, of course, but she was still wrong for all her cockiness. The car may have looked right, but the Amhurst woman didn’t. She looked money, quiet, smart, and understated, which meant a lot of money. He didn’t like interviewing people who were in control. They only told you what they wanted you to know.
    â€˜But she must have stood out round here, even if her car didn’t.’
    â€˜Well, she certainly never had any trouble with any of the clients. They all seemed to like her.’
    The sergeant joined in.
    â€˜I’d have thought they’d resent the Mother Teresa sort.’
    â€˜Still looking for your killer among the clients?’
    The inspector took over again. ‘They knew her movements. It would have been easy for someone to wait for her coming out one night and grab her handbag.’
    â€˜And kill her?’
    â€˜She might have recognised whoever it was. Or it might have been someone on drugs. That sort kill for anything they can get, sometimes for no reason at all.’
    â€˜I won’t pretend one of our clients couldn’t have done it. But any regulars, those who knew what time she went home and where her car was, also knew there’s never anything on these premises worth stealing, and the same goes for the staff. She would have had nothing of value on her, no money, no jewellery, not even a watch.’
    â€˜That’s right,’ said the sergeant, going back a few pages in his notebook. ‘We were going to ask you about that. She had no watch on her when she was found. We thought it might have been taken.’
    â€˜No, she never wore one while she was here.’
    â€˜Can you give us a list of those who were here yesterday?’ The inspector wasn’t giving up.
    â€˜I can try. When do you want it?’
    â€˜In your own time, Sister,’ said the sergeant, ‘but the sooner we get it the more help it is. Tell me when to call and I’ll collect it.’
    â€˜I’ll have it ready tomorrow morning.’
    â€˜I’ll be here at 9.30 then.’
    â€˜I’ll be at Mass, come at 11. By the way, did you find her handbag?’
    â€˜Not yet.’
    The sergeant stood up. ‘Thank you for your co-operation, Sister.’
    The inspector pocketed his cigarettes and lighter. ‘I’ve never questioned a nun before.’
    â€˜You still haven’t. I’m a Religious Sister, not a nun.’
    â€˜There’s a difference?’
    Philomena smiled her sweet smile. ‘Not one that you would be able to understand,’ and went on with mock seriousness, ‘I could try to explain if you’re really interested in the Religious Orders of the Catholic Church but I –’
    â€˜Could you ask Mr Costello to come in now, please, Sister?’ the sergeant interrupted. He didn’t want hostilities to be resumed.
    â€˜Of course, Inspector.’
    Deal watched her leave the room.
    The sergeant looked up from checking his notes. ‘She didn’t mention cleaning up the soup,’ he observed.
    Deal shrugged. He didn’t like his sergeants to point things out to him.
    â€˜That wasn’t relevant. If they were cleaning up soup they couldn’t have seen anything.’
    â€˜So what do you think?’
    â€˜I doubt