Enter Second Murderer by Alanna Knight

Scottish Babingtons had managed to keep clear of the scandal. They had remained staunchly but secretly Catholic and had served the Stuart cause as best they could as secret agents, while managing to avoid any public declaration which would have meant sequestration after the Forty-five.
    When the last member of the family, an elderly spinster, died in the early years of the century, the house and its park was willed to the Roman Catholic Church for use as a religious house. The Sisters of St. Anthony were a teaching Order, their school financed by selling the parkland as highly coveted building lots.
    The ancient house had been, as Faro put it, "somewhat freely restored", with Queen Anne and Georgian wings added to the original tower. They entered by the modern extension, bristling with turrets and gargoyles on the outside and dark panelling and marble on the inside.
    A lapsed Presbyterian and non-churchgoer, Faro found embarrassing such evidence of papacy as was exhibited by religious statues and a marble fresco of the Stations of the Cross. The faint smell of incense assailed their nostrils not unpleasantly, as they waited in the hall outside the newly built chapel.
    The Reverend Mother's quick steps were almost inaudible on the marble floor as she came towards them, and over her normally immobile countenance flickered a look of distaste as she recognised the Inspector. She chose to ignore Vince's smile and proffered hand as Faro introduced them.
    "Follow me." In the tiny, sparsely furnished ante-room, she did not invite them to sit down. Faro's immediate reaction was that their impromptu visit was an intrusion and that his presence, and what it implied, had upset her.
    "We were hoping that you might be able to help us."
    "In what way?" she asked coldly.
    "In regard to Lily Goldie."
    "I see," she said, in the tones of one who clearly did not. "Perhaps I should point out that it is in the best interests of our girls that their normal routine is not interrupted. I need hardly tell you, Inspector, that they were all very upset——as were the sisters." A note of annoyance shattered that calm face, pale as the wimple she wore. "Our pupils' work and our own meditations have been seriously affected by these disruptions. May one ask what you can hope to gain from these enquiries, since the unfortunate man has paid his debt to society?"
    "If you would allow me to explain. We have no intention of publicly reopening the case. This is merely a routine enquiry following your letter and the discovery of the photograph in Miss Goldie's room. I wish to check certain facts—that is all. You may rely on my discretion to disturb your establishment as little as possible."
    "Am I then to understand that you are acting in a private capacity?"
    "Entirely."
    "I see." The bloodless hands took on a supplicant's role, fingertips pressed together. "Very well. I will do what I can to help you."
    "Were both girls of your faith?"
    She looked at Vince coldly as if aware of his presence for the first time. "Naturally. We do not knowingly take heretics into our establishment. We employ only good Catholic girls."
    "Am I correct in understanding that, though both were engaged at the same time, they were strangers to each other?" asked Faro.
    The Reverend Mother shrugged. "There was no evidence of previous acquaintance. Besides, it is extremely unlikely since they were from completely different backgrounds; one a servant, one a teacher."
    "I only asked because it did occur to me there might be some kinship."
    "Kinship?"
    "Yes, they looked alike."
    "A coincidence." She thought for a moment. "Interesting that you should mention it though. I had on occasion mistaken each for the other—in outdoor dress that is—and out of uniform."
    Vince's triumphant glance at his stepfather said: There you are.
    "May I ask you something personal?" said Faro.
    The Reverend Mother hesitated for a moment. "If it's something I can answer, then I will."
    "What were your own