Vengeance Is Mine (20 page)

CHAPTER 22

Sister Kate awoke with a start. It was ten o'clock, and she'd fallen asleep in her chair. She'd had the elevator dream again. Or was it a dream? Now Sister Kate remembered what had bothered her earlier. The elevator key. If Cissy had the elevator key, she could let Bishop Donahue out.

She jumped up from her chair and peered out the window. Two figures in black were hurrying up the sidewalk. As they passed under the streetlight Sister Kate recognized Bishop Donahue's calotte.

They were out. Sister Kate's hands trembled as she grabbed her coat and keys. There was no time to call the guard. She had to catch them and bring them back. They were her responsibility.

The wind whipped past Sister Kate's face as she unlocked the gate and ran down the sidewalk. They were almost two blocks ahead of her now, heading toward the college. There was no way she could overtake them. It was all Sister Kate could do to keep them in sight.

They turned the corner on Sixth Avenue and headed south. Sister Kate buttoned her coat and shoved her hands into her pockets. It was cold, and she hadn't thought to grab her scarf or gloves. She'd have a terrible earache tomorrow, but that wasn't important now. Two of her patients had escaped, and it was all her fault.

Bishop Donahue and Cissy turned into the entrance for the Oaks apartment complex. Sister Kate ran as fast as she could. The open areas between the two-story buildings were planted with pine trees and shrubbery. She'd lost them.

Sister Kate rushed to the nearest courtyard and stopped to listen. She prayed for them to make a noise, but the only sound she heard was her own frantic heartbeat.

 

 

“Be careful, Pete. You had your bath last night.”

Michele scooped up the little dog and put him back down on the bathroom floor. It was already ten-thirty. Steve should be here by eleven.

Her new negligee was positively indecent. Michele laughed as she slipped into the sheer silk gown and smoothed it down over her hips. The matching peignoir wasn't designed for modesty either. It actually highlighted the sheerness of the gown underneath.

“What do you think, Pete? Will Steve like it?”

Pete cocked his head and surveyed her silently. Then he ran to the kitchen and began to paw at the refrigerator.

“Okay, Pete. I'm not sure what that means, but I'll take it as a compliment.”

Michele got down the box of Milk-Bones and gave Pete a green one. Steve had said green was Pete's favorite. Then she put on her high-heeled slippers and practiced walking across the living room. It was difficult because the stiletto heels sank into the deep pile carpet. She thought she'd just gotten the hang of it when she remembered she hadn't used her new perfume. The saleslady had promised it would turn men into pure animals.

Pete was fascinated by the spray bottle. Michele ended up spraying him quite by accident, and Pete retreated to the living room while she brushed her hair.

A moment later Pete barked and jumped at the door. Brunhilda must be out on her patio. Pete still hadn't gotten over his fascination with the huge female St. Bernard. He started to growl, and Michele went out to see what had disturbed him. She was halfway across the living room, tottering a bit on her high heels, when the doorbell rang.

Steve had lectured her on safety, and Michele looked through the peephole to see who was outside. A nun. There was no reason to be paranoid, now that the killers had been caught, but Michele hesitated, her hand on the lock. She couldn't open the door of Steve's bachelor apartment, dressed in a see-through negligee. It was simply too embarrassing. If the nun really needed to see Steve, she could catch him at the office tomorrow.

The bell rang again, and Michele stepped back from the door. Pete was growling low in his throat, and she scooped him up in her arms.

“Shh,” she whispered. “Just be quiet and she'll go away.”

The doorbell rang once more, and then all was silent. Michele breathed a sigh of relief. She peeked out and saw the nun walk to Steve's empty parking space. It was clearly marked. Apartment 121. Naturally the nun would assume that there was no one home and leave.

Michele watched as the nun hurried across the courtyard. Another person in a black cape joined her, and they stood talking for a moment. If this was an apartment-to-apartment solicitation for charity, they had picked the wrong night for it. Almost everyone in the complex was attending the hockey play-offs at WinterGame tonight.

“Here, Pete.” Michele set the little dog down on the couch and handed him another Milk-Bone. “I'd better finish brushing my hair. Steve should be here any minute.”

In less than five minutes Michele was ready. She stepped back and studied her reflection in the bathroom mirror. Her mother would faint dead away if she saw this outfit, and Michele knew that meant she looked just perfect. She was about to add a little more eye shadow when there was a loud crash in the living room.

Michele stumbled lightly as she turned. She reached down, snatched off her slippers, and raced into the living room as fast as she could.

“Pete! What in the—”

The window by the front door was shattered. Michele gasped as she saw a hand reaching through, feeling for the doorknob. Someone was breaking into Steve's apartment.

There was no time to panic. Michele raised the slipper she was carrying and brought it down as hard as she could. The stiletto heel made a formidable weapon. It smashed down, once, twice, and a man in a black cape staggered back from the window, holding his bloody hand against his chest.

Michele's knees turned weak as she stared into the man's eyes and saw the madness blazing there. Then he whirled and stumbled away toward the pine tree in the courtyard. A bishop! Carrying a huge silver crucifix!

The gun! She had to get the gun! Michele ran to the bedroom and grabbed the revolver. Her hands were shaking so hard she could barely hold it. Steve's bishop! The killer hadn't been caught in Los Angeles. He was here.

The phone was dead. He must have cut the line. Michele huddled against the door and tried to think clearly. She couldn't run. He was still out there. She was trapped.

Michele fought down her panic. She might be trapped, but she had the gun, and she knew how to use it. But where was Steve?

 

 

“Holy Rest?” Archbishop Ciminski's voice shook slightly. “I—I'm not authorized to discuss that with you, Steve.”

“Wrong.” Steve's smile was tight. “If you don't tell me about Holy Rest, I'll be forced to drag you down to the station and lock you up for withholding evidence. That would look rotten for both of us.”

Archbishop Ciminski stared hard at Steve. Then he nodded.

“I believe you'd actually do it. All right, Steve. Holy Rest is a maximum-security mental asylum for high-ranking members of the Catholic clergy. There's a bishop in residence, but I checked on it myself this afternoon. There's no way he could have gotten out.”

“We'll check it again. Together. Let's go.”

 

 

Sister Kate ran the moment she heard the breaking glass. She came around the building in time to see Bishop Donahue stagger away from the apartment window, holding his hand. He had the crucifix from Holy Rest. It all was true.

She saw Cissy waiting by the big pine tree. She held the low branches apart, and Bishop Donahue ducked into the shelter.

Sister Kate reached the tree and hesitated.

“Cissy? Come out, dear. It's Sister Kate.”

The pine branches creaked and swayed in the wind, but there was no answer.

“It's all right, Cissy. I'll take you home. Come out now, like a good girl.”

The branches on one side of the tree started to move. Sister Kate pictured a struggle under the heavy boughs. Was Bishop Donahue holding Cissy prisoner?

“Let her go, Bishop Donahue. No one's angry with you. Just come along with me, and we'll all go back to Holy Rest.”

There was a sudden movement on the other side of the tree, and Bishop Donahue hurtled out at her, the crucifix raised high above his head. Sister Kate turned to run, but she stumbled in the deep snow. A stabbing pain made her cry out as her ankle gave way. She sat down hard in the snow and watched with horror as Bishop Donahue swung the heavy crucifix, narrowly missing her head.

Cissy ran out from the shelter of the tree.

“No! Not Sister Kate!”

Bishop Donahue turned to look at her, and Cissy lunged at his arm. She managed to grab hold of the crucifix and fought to tear it away from him.

Sister Kate watched in frozen horror as Cissy struggled to hang on. The crucifix rose higher and higher, lifting Cissy almost off her feet. Then it smashed down with deadly accuracy on Cissy's skull.

“Dear God!”

Bishop Donahue whirled and raised the crucifix again. Then it was as if Cissy's fall had freed Sister Kate, and suddenly she could move again. She stumbled to her feet and limped back toward the tree. Her injured ankle shot needles of pain to her mind, and she saw the bishop through a dim haze of agony as he advanced.

“Now, Bishop Donahue, just put that down and we'll talk about it. You must be terribly cold. We'll go back to Holy Rest, and I'll make you a nice cup of tea.”

Bishop Donahue's eyes gleamed insanely. Her words had no effect. There was a heavy branch at her feet, and Sister Kate snatched it up. She swung it as hard as she could, hoping to knock Bishop Donahue off his feet. If she could hold him off for just a short time, someone would hear the commotion and call for help.

The bishop staggered back and laughed. It was the most chilling sound Sister Kate had ever heard. She swung again, and the sharp bark on the branch tore at his face. He was bleeding and injured, but nothing seemed to stop him.

Sister Kate saw the crucifix rise again. She swung with all her strength, trying to blind him with the sharp point of the branch. Then the night exploded in a sudden burst of light and Sister Kate knew she had failed.

 

 

Archbishop Ciminski stood in Sister Kate's open doorway and stared at her neatly made bed. She was gone.

“The chapel?”

The two men hurried down the hall. There was an empty space on the chapel wall where the crucifix had been.

“You'd better show me the bishop's room.”

Steve followed the archbishop up the stairs. Bishop Donahue's room was empty. They checked the other rooms and found that Sister Cecelia was missing too.

“Let the police handle it, sir. We'll be as discreet as possible.”

Archbishop Ciminski looked old and defeated.

“It was the television. I gave it to them for Christmas. At first Bishop Donahue got upset with the coverage of WinterGame, but then he seemed to adjust. I just never thought he might—”

“I'm bringing a man over to stand guard in case they come back.”

“Certainly. I'll stay here myself. It's the least I can do.”

Steve had the guard let him out. He ran across the street and pushed his way through the crowd.

Doug was standing near the goalie's cage, eating a hot dog. Steve grabbed his arm.

“Come with me, Doug.”

They walked away from the crowd to a spot where they couldn't be overheard.

“See that yellow brick house across the street? Pick up a partner, and get over there right away. Archbishop Ciminski'll let you in. That's where our bishop lives. If he comes back, cuff him, but be careful. He's dangerous.”

“You were right. I knew it.” Doug flashed a quick grin. “Okay, Steve. You can count on me.”

Steve hurried through the crowd to the snack booth. Judith and Toni were working.

“Judith? I need to see you for a minute in private.”

Judith looked puzzled, but she hopped over the counter and led the way to her car. It was parked directly behind the snack booth.

“I want you to round up Louise, Margaret, and Michele right away. You have to stick together for the rest of the night. Go to Margaret's house after the game so I'll know where to reach you. Are Danny and Ken still on the job?”

“Sure. They're in the stands with Louise, selling buttons. What's going on, Steve?”

“Send someone over to get them. Tell them to stay with you for the rest of the night. Our killer's still out there, and I'm going after him.”

“Oh, my God!” Judith's face turned white. “Michele's not here, Steve. She took a taxi to your apartment an hour ago.”

Steve swallowed hard.

“Just do what I told you, Judith. I'm on my way.”

CHAPTER 23

There was a squad car idling in the parking lot, and Steve jumped in. He put the car in gear and used the radio to dispatch all available units to search the area for a bishop and two nuns. The bishop was armed and dangerous. He just had time to call for a backup at his home address before he turned in at the Oaks, red lights flashing.

A light was on in his living room. Steve saw the broken window as he ran through the snow, gun drawn.

“Michele!” Steve pounded on the door. “Michele, are you all right?”

“Oh, thank God you're here.”

Michele pulled him inside and locked the door. She had his gun in her hand.

“He was here, Steve. Your killer bishop. He—he broke the window and stuck his hand through, and I—I hit him with my slipper.”

Michele pointed to the high-heeled slipper on the floor. It was covered with blood.

“He cut the phone line, so I couldn't call for help, but I—I've been waiting for him. I would have blown his head off if he'd come back. Honest to God.”

“Where did he go, honey? Did you see?”

“Out through the courtyard. There was an awful racket, Steve. I—I was afraid to stay here, but I was too scared to go out there alone.”

“Thank God for that. Sit right here, Michele, and keep that gun handy. I called for a backup, and it'll be here any minute. I've got to check it out.”

Before Michele could stop him, Steve was gone. She stared at the closed front door and shuddered as she remembered the crazed look in the bishop's eyes. She was more afraid for Steve than she was for herself.

Pete whimpered, and Michele made up her mind. She ran to the closet to get her boots. Steve might need help, and two guns were better than one.

 

 

Steve picked up the trail of blood at the base of the window and followed it into the courtyard. There was a crumpled figure in the snow by a bank of shrubbery.

“Jesus!” Steve shivered as he bent down to look. It was a nun. Her head was smashed in. Steve stopped and listened. The night was quiet and peaceful. It was a hell of a contrast with the bloody corpse in the snow.

More blood led to the snowbank by the big pine tree at the far end of the courtyard. Steve was cautious as he followed the trail. He stepped over a small rise and found another body. A second nun. If the bishop was still here, he was alone.

Steve moved slowly as he circled the big pine. It was full and huge with an overhang of branches that dropped down to snow level. He'd played under a tree like that when he was a kid.

That was it. Steve moved a little closer. The overhang was the perfect hiding place for an injured and desperate man. Where was his backup? He sure as hell wasn't going in there alone.

 

 

It was as silent as a tomb when Michele stepped outside. Even the wind had stopped blowing. She saw Steve at the far end of the courtyard, circling the big pine tree.

Michele's eyes were drawn to the three low bushes to the left of the pine. One looked much thicker than she remembered. Someone was crouching behind it. The branches were moving, and there was no wind. She had to warn Steve.

She opened her mouth to yell, but the words were frozen in her throat. Michele watched in horror as a figure in black lunged at Steve.

“Behind you! It's
him!
”

Michele's shout was enough to throw off the bishop's aim. Steve ducked, and the crucifix whistled past his ear. He rolled and tried to get to his feet, but the bishop was fast. Another swing, another roll, and Steve managed to regain his balance. There was no time to shoot. The bishop's reflexes would carry through even if Steve managed to kill him.

He charged the bishop and grabbed his arm as he brought the crucifix down again. Steve knew he was strong, but the bishop had the strength of insanity. They grappled in the knee-deep snow for what seemed to be an eternity.

Michele ran across the courtyard and got as close as she could. She tried to aim the gun at the bishop, but he was too close to Steve. There was nothing she could do but watch in dread as Steve began to tire.

Suddenly Michele remembered her best friend in high school and how she used to go to confession every Wednesday night.

“Bless me, Father, for I have sinned . . .”

Bishop Donahue turned to look at her. His eyes clouded, and he hesitated, confused by the familiar phrase. It was the advantage Steve needed. With the last of his strength he forced the bishop's arm down and tore the crucifix out of his grasp.

Bishop Donahue's voice was loud and condemning. He lunged toward Michele, and Steve pulled the trigger. Michele looked down in horror as the bishop fell at her feet.

Steve knelt to feel for a pulse. The bishop was dead. Then Steve gathered Michele in his arms.

There was the sound of sirens in the distance, and Steve looked down at Michele. She was dressed in nothing but a see-through nightgown.

“That was brilliant, honey. Here. Put on my parka. You must be frozen.”

Michele looked down at herself in surprise. She had put on her boots, but she'd forgotten all about anything else.

“Oh no! I forgot my coat!” Michele's teeth were chattering so hard she could barely speak. Suddenly she was terribly cold.

“Hurry, Steve. Zip it up quick! My mother'll be here on the first plane if she ever hears about this.”

Steve picked her up in his arms and ran toward the apartment. He just managed to make it inside before the squad car pulled up. He was grinning as he placed Michele on the heated water bed, parka and all.

“I'll call your mother myself and tell her all about it. That way she might have time to make it here before the wedding.”