Murder at San Miguel by Danee Wilson

Author:Danee Wilson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: fiction
ISBN: 9781989274781
Publisher: Radiant Press
Published: 2022-10-12T18:01:20+00:00

Chapter 29

bill and i were in the hallway, approaching the stairs that led to Ignacio’s room in the attic, when we bumped into Helen followed closely by Muffin.

“Are you coming to talk to me?” she asked eagerly.

“Actually, Helen,” I said, “we need to speak to someone else first.”

“But you said you’d talk to me after you talked to Miriam,” she whined, clearly not accustomed to being brushed off.

“I tell you what, Helen. You and I can have a little chat while Professor Forster attends to other matters. How does that sound?”

Ignacio might be more willing to speak openly if Bill were alone, and it could prevent a meltdown on Helen’s part. Two birds, one stone.

“You can find me when you’re done,” Bill said swiftly, leaving no time for Helen to protest.

She pouted slightly and said nothing.

“Now let me think a moment,” I pondered aloud as we stood alone in the hallway. “Where can we have a private conversation?”

“We could use the office beside the kitchen,” Helen said as though nothing were out of the ordinary.

“I’ll ask the priests if they mind,” I said, wondering why the office would even come to Helen’s mind.

Though I’d been in once or twice, we generally didn’t use the office for the purposes of the excavation. It was also off limits to students. Maite explained to us on arrival that the office was used by the priests when they stayed at the sanctuary and by her to store a few things when the pantry grew too cramped. I snapped my fingers to get Muffin’s attention and the three of us headed down to the main floor of the house.

I found Father José María in the kitchen staring into a cup of tea, a stern look on his face. He sat in silence, which was no surprise to me. Everyone reacted to tragedy in their own way. I asked, and he gave his approval to use the office.

“Do I need a key to get in?” I asked.

“No,” José María said. “It’s not locked. There’s been little need to keep things locked up until now.”

Of course, given the repeated thefts at the sanctuary, I knew this wasn’t true. However, I said nothing, knowing that the older priest was still stewing over the events of that morning.

Helen and I entered the office. It was a large room adjacent to the kitchen, cluttered with furniture, books, loose papers, and other odds and ends. There were also two large wooden desks set up facing each other, a few bookshelves with glass doors, a couple upholstered chairs, and several more wooden chairs placed against one of the walls. Each wooden chair had a stack of books and papers leaning precariously on the seat, preventing anyone from using them for their true purpose. I didn’t want to disturb the order of things, as there might have been logic behind the perceived chaos. Bill’s office was much the same when he was teaching.

“We can sit at the desks,” I told Helen, pulling a chair from beneath the heavy oak desktop.

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