Read Online A Demon Summer by G. M. Malliet - Free Book Online Page B

prayer book lay open at the page where Max by his appearance had interrupted her contemplations.
    As she continued the long walk back to her station, Max assayed a friendly greeting and a trial question or two, and it soon became apparent she was quite deaf, replying in a nonsensical way to anything Max said. He did manage to establish that her name was Dame Hephzibah. When he asked her how long she had been at Monkbury Abbey, she replied that she felt fine and thanked him kindly for asking. “And God willing, I’ll live to be a hundred,” she added. He imagined that inability to hear might come in handy during the Great Silence, but right now it only added a wrinkle to his investigation. Finally, pulling out the notebook he always carried with him, Max wrote down in large block letters his most pressing question.
    HAS DCI COTTON LEFT A MESSAGE FOR ME—FATHER MAX TUDOR?
    The DCI had promised to keep Max updated with anything breaking in the case. What Max most wished to hear was that it was solved and he could return home to Awena.
    She took the notebook from him and holding it up to her eyes, studied it closely. Finally she removed her glasses and looked closer still. The glasses caught on the edges of her coif, complicating their removal.
    â€œGood heavens, no!” she yelled at him. Like many people who were hard of hearing, Dame Hephzibah compensated for the loss by shouting. Max felt his pulse quicken slightly as her response reverberated off the stone walls. For an elderly, small woman she had tremendous vocal power.
    â€œAnd to have a detective inspector need to call here at all,” she added. “Bless my soul, I never thought to live to see the like!”
    Turning away, she continued her penguin-like progress, and Max at last realized her destination.
    There was a bell pull hanging from the ceiling, and much like Lady Grantham in Downton Abbey, Dame Hephzibah apparently used it to communicate that she needed assistance. Grabbing the rope, she clung swaying to it for dear life, much as she had clung to Max, and by using her meager body weight as a force of gravity, managed to yank the bell three times as three times her feet left the ground. The three-bell ring probably was a sort of code for “Visitor at the Gate.” Max walked further inside the lodge and stood with his arms held slightly out from his body in order to catch and break her fall if need be. It was a very near thing that she might not be able to return to earth and could sway up there forever like a woman ascending a rope version of Jacob’s ladder.
    But at last she landed safely on her tiny orthopedic shoes, releasing the rope with the expert timing born of years of practice.
    And smiling happily, she said, “Dame Tabitha, our guest-mistress, will be with you shortly. She will show you your lodgings in the guesthouse.
    â€œWould you like some tea while you wait, Father?”

 
    Chapter 6
    THE RULE
    All are to follow without questioning the teachings of the Rule as set forth herein. Let no one dare to deviate from these instructions.
    â€”The Rule of the Order of the Handmaids of St. Lucy
    Max followed the portress’s directions to park his “motorcar,” taking a dirt road that ran around the outer wall of the guesthouse to the gated visitor’s area. The gate was equipped with a solar-powered keypad for which he had been given the passcode.
    A nun waited for him at the door to the guesthouse. He assumed this was the guest-mistress, Dame Tabitha. Dame Hephzibah had confided that her nickname among the nuns was Dame Tabby, but, “Best you not call her that unless she gives you permission.”
    Dame Tabitha was an immensely large woman with a bouncer’s build. She had Dame Hephzibah’s kind eyes, but hers were younger eyes, and they sat rather far apart in a wide face.
    â€œYou’ll be Father Maxen Tudor,” she said, consulting her clipboard with brisk efficiency. She