MURDER TAKES TIME

Chapter 46

A Long-lost Letter

Wilmington—20 Months Ago

I was waiting for Sister Mary Thomas when she walked across the street from the convent. She came, long black robes flowing with each stride, her face gleaming in the morning sun. I couldn’t see her smile, but I pictured it, knew it was there. That gave me comfort.

“Good morning, Sister.”

“Get your car, Nicky. You’re coming with me.”

“Where?”

“To the bank. Bring your briefcase.”

We drove in silence—not quite silence—but small talk all the way to the bank. “What are we doing here?” 

“Be patient.” 

She took me to a safe-deposit box, opening it once the assistant left us alone. Inside was twenty thousand dollars in cash and a manila envelope, sealed at the top. “What the hell is this?” I asked. “Where did this money come from?”

“There should be a letter.”

I started to open it, but she stopped me. “Not here. Bring it with you.”

Curiosity burned inside of me, but I grabbed the cash and the envelope and put them in the briefcase. Once inside the car, I reached for the envelope. 

She stopped me again. “Wait until I leave.”

“Sister, what’s going on?”

“You will see in good time. Do as I ask, please?”

I nodded. What else could I do?

We made more small talk until we got back to the school, then she opened the door to leave. She turned to me, smiled, but it was a false one, the first one of those I’d ever seen from her. Then she kissed me on the cheek. “Goodbye, Nicky.” 

The way she said it made it feel permanent. I watched her go, feeling sorry and sad at the same time. “Goodbye, Sister,” I said as she closed the door.

I thought about driving back to Hershey before I read the letter, but I couldn’t, so I parked in a nearby lot. My heart raced as I slid my finger along the edge of the envelope, careful not to rip anything. Once opened, I stared inside. There were a few keys and a letter. 

Nicky, my son. 

If you are reading this, that means I am dead, probably long dead. It also means that Sister Mary Thomas is either dead or that she felt a burning need to give you this letter. 

My heart breaks considering either of those situations. I would like to say that if she is dead, I would be seeing her soon, but she will be going to a place I can never enter. I will have to be satisfied living my eternal life without her, as I had to live my physical life without her.

I put the letter down. Wiped away tears. What the hell was going on? Did Pops and Sister Thomas… no, it couldn’t be. She treated me like shit early on, was so tough on me…and why would Pops say he’d be in hell? It didn’t make sense. I shook my head, picked the letter back up. 

I’m sure you’re wondering about the money—where did it come from? How did I get so much? Why did I wait this long to give it to you—you could have used it.

Lots of questions, I know. I’ll answer them one by one. 

First about sweet Sister Mary Thomas. Her real name is Concetta Panelli—beautiful name, isn’t it? She and I were best friends growing up. Concetta was never beautiful in the sense that most people think of beauty, but after getting to know her, I thought she was the most wondrous person in the world. And she was so smart—but you already know that. We did everything together. Not actually everything. She kept her honor, but we had more love than most people experience all of their lives. We made plans to marry. To have a house that would be full of wonderful children like you. And we spoke of living to ages people only dreamed of, spending every day in bliss.