"A pity the wind is so chilly today," Mother Winifred remarked. "Perhaps tomorrow it will be comfortable enough to walk in the garden." She looked out the window. "It looks a bit bleak now, but in the summer, it is really quite beautiful."
"Even in the winter," I said. "The design is classic."
The walled square contained five gardens, one in each corner and one in the middle. The corner to the right was the kitchen garden, bordered by mounds of thyme, with clumps of marjoram and parsley and sage in the center and a handsome rosemary at the back. One of the back corners was a fragrance garden, with old roses climbing against the stone wall. The other was a dyers' garden, with teasel- not a dye plant, actually, but used by weavers to tease fibers-and madder and woad, a sprawling, noxious weed that has to be carefully contained.
"The apothecary garden interests me most." Mother Winifred pointed to the fourth corner. "We have quite a
few medicinals. Peppermint for an upset stomach, catnip and chamomile for a sound sleep. As well as sage, foxglove, rue, comfrey, pennyroyal, feverfew-"
"Mother also has a stillroom," Maggie said. "That's where the sisters make salves and lotions."
"A growing number are interested in herbal medicines," Mother Winifred said. "I try to keep up on current research, and several of the sisters enjoy trying out old recipes. We have quite an extensive shelf of reference books, if you'd care to see them."
"I would, thank you," I said. "I'd like to see your still-room, too." It was pleasant to sit here in the warmth, sipping tea and talking about gardens. But there was something else to be done, and we might as well get to it. I pushed my cup away. "We ran into Deputy Walters in town," I said. "He told us about the fires. He also said you wanted me to look into them. Is that right?''
A look of consternation crossed Mother Winifred's face. "Oh, dear," she said. "I wanted to be the first to tell you."
So it was true. I sighed. ' 'The fires are the 'minor mystery' you mentioned on the phone?''
Mother Winifred fixed her bright, birdlike eyes on me. "I hope you'll forgive me, China. I've been duplicitous."
"If you don't mind my saying so, Mother," I said, "arson isn't a minor matter. Especially in a place like this, with so many people living so close together."
"You're right, of course." She gestured at a telephone on the wall. "The difficulty is that we have only two phones here-this one and the one in the main office in Sophia. They're on the same line. I needed to let you know that I had a special reason for wanting you to come, but I was afraid our conversation might be overheard."
"You thought someone might be listening? Who?"
Mother Winifred shifted uncomfortably. "Something troublesome and dangerous is going on here. I understand that you have been helpful to the police on several different occasions, and that you have a background in criminal law.
And since you wanted to make a retreat here, I felt you were the right person to help us."
Ruby leaned forward. " China is very good at solving mysteries. And I'm always glad to help." She made a face. "It's really too bad that I can't stay. If I hadn't already made plans-"
I shook my head. "What Mother Winifred needs is a trained arson investigator, Ruby. Someone who-"
"But it's not just the fires, China," Maggie broke in. She folded her arms on the table. "Tell her about the letters, Mother."
Mother Winifred shifted nervously. ' 'Yes. Well, the letters are really quite distressing. They have the potential to make a difficult situation much worse."
I took a deep breath. The matter was obviously quite complicated, but we had to start somewhere. "Let's begin with the fires, shall we?" I said. "I know something about them already."
"Of course. The fire in the craft room in the barn-that was in October-started with an electrical short. Dwight said he thought it was accidental, so after he repaired the short, I wasn't especially concerned. Sister Gabriella wondered whether there might be something more to it, but I'm afraid I rather brushed her suspicions aside."
"The second fire was at Thanksgiving?" Ruby asked.
' 'Yes. It had to have been deliberately set. A large pan of cooking oil was placed on the stove and the burner turned on high-something our kitchen staff would never think of doing. No one was ever in danger, fortunately. Our meal was over and the kitchen crew had finished. There was nobody in the building."
"Except Dwight," I remarked. I frowned. "And Father Steven. Is that right?"
She nodded. "Father Steven had been here for dinner. They were both outside, talking. Dwight smelled smoke and ran in and put a lid on the pot. There was ho actual fire damage, but we had to repaint the kitchen. The fire was
obviously deliberate. I thought we'd better have Deputy Walters take a look." She made a face. "For all the good it did us."
"Was Father Steven here when the fire started in the barn?"
Mother Winifred looked at me, shocked. "You're not suggesting-"
"I'm just asking."
She hesitated. ' 'Actually, I'm not sure whether he was here that day or not. Perhaps you should ask Gabriella. She might remember."
"But he was here the night of the chapel fire."
"Yes. It was Christmas Eve, and he was preparing to say Mass. That fire was also deliberate, I'm afraid. A candle was placed close to a curtain in the sacristy." Her face was distressed. ' 'We must identify the person who is doing this. She is mentally unbalanced. She needs help."
Maggie frowned. "Why does the arsonist have to be one of the sisters, Mother? How about Carl Townsend? I was in Mother Hilaria's office one morning when he stormed in, mad enough to throttle her. Now he's lost the battle over Mrs. Laney's will, and Mother Hilaria is beyond his reach. Setting a fire is the sort of thing he would do."
Mother Winifred was dubious. "I don't know-I mean, I really don't think…" She clasped her hands with a heavy sigh. "But I suppose anything is possible. Carl and Rena Townsend were here on Christmas Eve. Rather unexpectedly, too, I might add. Not at the other times, though. At least not to my knowledge."
"But there are two other Townsends." Maggie leaned forward. "How about Royce?"
"Doctor Townsend?" Mother frowned. "Since Perpetua fell ill, he's been here quite often. Whether he was here when the fires broke out-You must ask Sister Rowena. She's our infirmarian. I'm sure she keeps track of his visits." She shook her head. "Really, Margaret Mary, I can't see a doctor setting fire to our chapel. Can you?"
"Can you see a nun doing it, Mother?" Maggie asked bleakly.
Mother Winifred's hand went to her mouth. "Oh, dear," she whispered.
It was time to ask another question-one that had been at the back of my mind for several hours. ' 'Mother Hilaria's death-you're absolutely sure it was an accident?"
Mother took a deep breath. "Oh, there's no doubt about that," she said. "The hot plate was quite old, and it's no surprise that it malfunctioned. Doctor Townsend said the shock probably wouldn't have been fatal if she hadn't been standing in some spilled milk. And of course she had a bad heart, and high blood pressure too. She was trying to untangle the financial business you see. She was under a great deal of stress."
' 'Could I have a look at the hot plate?''