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(or cloisters, actually) ran along the two building facades. Dortmunder and May stood under this walkway, just inside the main front door, and looked out through the stone arch at the chattering nuns, many of whom peeked back while maintaining their conversations with one another, pretending they weren’t dying of curiosity.
    â€œHere she comes,” Dortmunder said, as Mother Mary Forcible came pattering down the walkway, elbows working as she hustled along. Sister Mary Amity, who’d let them in, jogged in her wake until, just before reaching Dortmunder and May, Mother Mary Forcible turned and said, “Thank you, Sister. I’ll take over now.”
    â€œOh,” said the sister. “Yes, of course, Mother.” She waved as she reluctantly receded, calling, “Nice to see you. Chat again sometime.”
    â€œSure,” Dortmunder said. Then he introduced May and Mother Mary Forcible, and extended the cane, saying, “I brought this back. Thanks for the loan.”
    â€œOh, Sister Mary Chaste will be very happy,” Mother Mary Forcible said, taking the cane. “She’s been using a hoe, not really satisfactory.”
    â€œAnd I wanted to say …” Dortmunder said, hesitating.
    â€œYes, of course. Come along to the office, we’ll be comfortable there.” She chugged off, and as they followed her down the walkway she said, “Would you care for coffee? Tea?”
    â€œNot for me, thanks,” May said.
    â€œI’m just fine, Sister,” Dortmunder said.
    â€œWe make good coffee, as you know.”
    â€œOh, yeah, I know that, Sister,” Dortmunder said. What he didn’t say was, he didn’t feel right taking their coffee when he was just here to tell them the deal was off.
    The whitewashed walls and scrubbed wooden floors and heavy-beamed ceilings led them to Mother Mary Forcible’s tiny crammed office, where she ushered them in, shut the door, put the cane in a corner, and said, “Now.”
    â€œSee, the problem is,” Dortmunder said, while Mother Mary Forcible walked briskly around him to her desk, picked up two thick looseleaf books with black covers, and turned with them.
    â€œJohn has been trying,” May said.
    â€œBefore we go any further,” Mother Mary Forcible said, “I want to give you these.” And she extended the two looseleaf books.
    Having no choice, Dortmunder took them and stood cradling them in his hands. They were large and bulky and fairly heavy. He said, “What’s this?”
    â€œI think I told you,” Mother Mary Forcible said, “that Sister Mary Grace is enabled to send us notes from time to time, and we mail messages to her by the same route. We told her you would be coming to rescue her—”
    â€œOh, well, that was—”
    â€œJohn did do his best,” May said.
    â€œAnd so,” Mother Mary Forcible went on, “she arranged to have these two volumes smuggled out.”
    Dortmunder looked at the looseleaf books in his hands. “Smuggled out? From there? ”
    May took one of the books from his hands and opened it. “John,” she said. “This is a list of all the tenants, and which security measures they’ve leased. And here’s wiring diagrams. John? Here’s the access code for the computer that runs the security!”
    Dortmunder was turning the pages of the other book. Floor plans. Staff assignments. Names of vendors and scheduled days of delivery. It went on and on.
    â€œSister Mary Grace is such an unworldly little thing,” Mother Mary Forcible was saying. “She wasn’t sure if you’d want any of this, or if it would help at all, but she sent it along just in case, which I thought was very enterprising of her. Are they useful?”
    Dortmunder looked up. His eyes were shining. “Let us prey,” he said.

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12
    Tiny Bulcher picked up the Honda Civic and put it on the back of the