J. Jance - Trial By Fire

Ali realized that someone had been feeding Bishop Gillespie a whole lot of very accurate information that he wasn’t supposed to have. Despite Agent Donnelley’s embargo on information, Bishop Gillespie seemed to know almost as much about the day’s events as Ali did. Under the circumstances, her best tactic seemed to be changing the subject before she, too, ended up divulging unauthorized information.

“Have you and Sister Anselm been friends for a long time?” she asked.

He nodded. “A very long time,” he said. “Has she told you anything about her background?”

“Some. She told me about her mission and about how, when she’s dealing with badly injured people, she’s often as concerned about healing their broken relationships as she is their broken bodies.”

Bishop Gillespie nodded sagely. “That’s true,” he said. “She’s forever trying to do for others what other people once did for her.”

“The nuns in France, you mean,” Ali said. “Before she became Sister Anselm.”

Bishop Gillespie beamed. “So she did tell you some of it?”

“About losing her parents and being left alone after they died.”

Bishop Gillespie nodded. “Sister Celeste, Sister Anselm’s first mother superior, recognized her natural facility for languages and encouraged her to study as many of them as possible. The convent saw to it that Sister Anslem received a degree in nursing. Once she was able to return to the U.S., she also earned a doctorate in psychology.”

“She never said exactly how that happened,” Ali said. “How she came back home.”

“I’m proud to say a good deal of that was my doing,” Bishop Gillespie said. “She lived and worked in France, speaking all those languages, but she wasn’t French any more than she was German. By then she had given up all hope of reclaiming her birthright as an American citizen. Yes, her family had been badly treated during the war. For her parents and her sister, Crystal City was a prison, but not for little Judith. That was her name then. As a child she had loved the relative freedom of living in the camp. She loved Texas and being out of those cold midwest winters, and she wanted desperately to come back home.

“It was Sister Anne Marie, Sister Anselm’s next mother superior, who first brought her to my attention. That was during the sixties, when I went to Rome as a special envoy to Vatican Two. Sister Anselm was dispatched there to serve as a translator. By then she could speak several additional languages, including fluent Italian and, I’m told, credible Latin as well,” he added with a chuckle. “She made a big impression on me at the time, but it took another fifteen years before I was able to help negotiate her return to this country, first to California and now here. I was also able to help her regain her lost citizenship, so she is now free to travel wherever I need her to go on an American passport.”

“Why are you telling me all this?” Ali asked.

“Because I want you to know what a treasure she is,” Bishop Gillespie said, “and because I want you to help me.”

“Help you do what?”

“You may have wondered what Sister Anselm was doing with the latest GPS/networking applications on her iPhone. Those are my doing as well, I’m afraid. When she’s at home, she stays in Jerome, in Saint Bernadette’s, a convent that specializes in treating troubled nuns, but when she’s on the road…”

Ali knew from reading Nadine Hazelett’s article that Sister Anselm’s home convent was in Jerome, but she knew nothing of Saint Bernadette’s.

“Wait a minute,” Ali interrupted. “What’s this about troubled nuns?”

“Back when Jerome was a busy mining community, there was a parochial school there. That shut down when the mines did, but the building itself was still in good shape, as was the convent. Since the diocese couldn’t find a suitable buyer at the time, we ended up keeping it. A few years ago we remodeled the place and turned it into a rehab facility.

“It turns out nuns have the same kinds of difficulties everyone else has-anger management issues, substance-abuse issues.” Bishop Gillespie smiled and shrugged. “You name it, we’ve got it. With a doctorate in psychology, Sister Anselm helps out there with the sessions when she’s home, but when she’s on the road, it’s important for me to be able to stay in touch with her, and with some of my other special emissaries as well.

“As I said earlier, over the past several days Sister Anselm had e-mailed me some of her concerns,” Bishop Gillespie continued. “She felt that even in a hospital setting, Mimi Cooper might still be in danger-that the people responsible for the attack on her life might attempt to strike again. She was also concerned that due to working so closely with Mimi, she, too, might be targeted. It turns out she was all too right about that,” he added regretfully. “What do you think?”

Bishop Gillespie’s direct question put Ali on the spot. “I was there,” she said finally. “I know that the man who died this afternoon, Thomas McGregor, is the person most directly responsible for what happened to Sister Anselm, but I don’t believe that he acted alone.”

“Why?” Bishop Gillespie asked. “Who else do you think might be involved?”

“I’ve been told there may have been two people in the vehicle that picked Sister Anselm up this morning, supposedly under the guise of giving her a lift to the hospital. The parking attendant at the hotel told me that vehicle was red. The vehicle McGregor was driving this afternoon, the one he abandoned in the desert, was green.”

Bishop Gillespie nodded thoughtfully. “All right,” he said. “That makes sense. Two vehicles; two people. It’s my understanding, Ms. Reynolds, that you were with Sister Anselm at the time she was rescued. Was she able to tell you anything about the identity of her attackers?”

Ali shook her head. “No, she was in bad shape by the time I found her, but if she recognized her attacker, she didn’t pass that information along to me. She wasn’t able to.”

“I’m quite confident she would have, had she been able,” Bishop Gillespie said, patting Ali’s hand. “She trusts you implicitly.”

“I’m not sure why,” Ali said.

“Sister Anselm is a very good judge of character,” he said. “That’s one of the reasons she’s good at her job.”

“What about her e-mails to you?” Ali asked. “Did she give you any theories about who might have been behind that initial attack on Mimi Cooper? And did you know Mimi Cooper died earlier this evening?” Ali added as an afterthought.

“Yes, I know,” Bishop Gillespie replied. “I was made aware of Mimi’s passing. As for Sister Anselm’s suspicions? She had several interesting takes on the situation. She was quite certain the victim’s spouse, Mr. Cooper, was in no way responsible.

“Sister Anselm found the son and the daughter to be quite contemptible, individually and collectively, but she also regarded them both as relatively ineffectual. She didn’t believe either of them would have the intestinal fortitude to plan or carry out this kind of horrific action. Still, she said there was something insidiously personal about the attack.”

“Yes,” Ali agreed. “Which brings us back to Thomas McGregor. I’m sure he holds the key to everything-to what happened to Sister Anselm today as well as to the attack on Mimi Cooper on Monday.”

“What is Sheriff Maxwell’s department doing to make those connections?” Bishop Gillespie asked, then held up a cautioning hand. “Please understand that I wouldn’t be at all offended if you’re not authorized to tell me. This is, after all, an ongoing investigation.”

Except it isn’t, Ali thought. Dave had already told her that Sheriff Maxwell was deferring to Agent in Charge Donnelley.