A Novena for Murder Read Free Page A

lunch.”
    “Who’s Leonel?” Mary Helen asked.
    “Our assistant cook. Sweet young man. I’ll introduce you.”
    “Does this girl friend go to school here?” The idea of a cook-wooing coed appealed to her.
    “She works here. Villanueva’s secretary.”
    “Marina? I just met her a few minutes ago. She’s a lovely child.”
    “Right. Leonel and she came from the same village, or at least the same province, in Portugal. Villanueva helped them both to emigrate. Marina has been with us a couple of years. Leonel, almost a year now.”
    Sister Anne swung the kitchen door open and held it for Mary Helen. “We’ve had a lot of Portuguese here,” she said. “Those two. Marina’s sister, Joanna. She’s a graduate student. The college gave her a full scholarship. But most of them work around theplace. And they are very good workers, too. You’ll meet Tony. He’s the gardener. Probably the best we’ve ever had. Have you noticed the grounds?”
    Mary Helen hated to admit she hadn’t, so she just cleared her throat. Anne didn’t seem to notice.
    “There’s a lot of ground to keep up. We’ve had four or five fellows who started to work here, to give Tony a hand. Next thing, they leave for better jobs. Can’t blame them. Then there’s Luis. Does janitorial work. He’s brand new, but, so far, very conscientious.”
    Rummaging around, Sister Anne unearthed two clean coffee mugs. “Villanueva sponsors them all,” she said, answering the next question Mary Helen was about to ask. “I guess he must have a good heart to take such an interest in these kids.”
    Mary Helen was about to comment when Anne pointed across the kitchen to a black, curly head protruding from a row of stainless steel pots. “That’s Leonel.”
    Wiping his hands on his apron, Leonel came toward the two nuns. He held one hand out to Mary Helen. She was so surprised, she nearly neglected to shake it. This mild-mannered young fellow was the same young man who, not twenty minutes before, had burst from the main college building in a rage.
    “Hi, Sister.” A toothy grin broke across his face. A dentist’s delight, Mary Helen thought, running her tongue over her own front teeth, which overlapped slightly.
    The young man’s dark, round eyes smiled downat her. There was something simple and almost sweet about him that she liked immediately.
    Anne poured Mary Helen coffee from the urn, brewed herself a cup of camomile tea, and headed back to her campus ministry office.
    Cradling her mug, Mary Helen settled into the nook right off the kitchen. She had just begun to blow and sip when Marina came in. Shyly, she moved toward Leonel. One peek at the couple, and Mary Helen knew Anne was correct. Definitely courting!
    Well, more power to them, she thought.
    That morning in that nook, Mary Helen often said afterward, she had her first glimmer of an idea for a research paper: The plight of today’s immigrant. Why not? There were plenty of them in San Francisco, and she had two lovely “primary sources” in Marina and Leonel. She peeked again. The kitchen was empty.
    Turning, she stared out at one of the college’s well-tailored gardens. At the far end, by a low hedge, she spotted Leonel. He was talking to a young man in overalls and a blue denim work shirt. In fact, Leonel, arms waving, was doing all the talking. He seemed to be angry again.
    That Leonel can surely switch from a lion to a lamb in a hurry, Mary Helen thought, watching him stomp back toward the kitchen, fists still clenched. Or maybe it’s this awful heat. Refilling her mug, she started back to the Sisters’ Residence to finish the morning paper.
    By late afternoon, the radio was predicting arecord high. “Today’s temperatures in the city soared into the high eighties,” the newscaster reported, “topping all previous . . .”
    Mary Helen snapped off her transistor. No need being reminded of how hot you were. She rummaged through her narrow closet and pulled out a short-sleeved