Following is a continuation of my SSS from 2 weeks ago, “Walk On”.
“Tap, tap, tapping”… he found the resonating echo from the up/down motion of the tiny leather sole upon grimy cobblestone particularly irritating this morning, not entirely for the wearer of the shoe but rather, for the circumstances that summoned him to Whitechapel this foggy morning.
“Pardon ma’am, er, Sister… did I hear you correctly? You are, what word did you use… demanding, I release the body to you? (how he wished she’d stay an observer, he didn’t take kindly to anyone getting in his face, not even a member of the clergy or whatever they call nuns these days). Emphasizing his last 2 syllables, Chief Inspector Winston Wendall Wentworth, III failed miserably to keep sarcasm from dripping copiously from the corners of his mustachioed upper lip, yet recovered sufficiently by losing the subtle sneer to his voice. “I’m afraid you’re going to have to provide me a lot more information before your request is considered, not withstanding, there will be a brief investigation surrounding the events leading to this horrific scene and the loss of your friend’s life.”
Peering down at the nun, Winston Wendall Wentworth, III had a sense this woman was not simply looking up and at him, rather she was gazing into his eyes intently through a prism he dare describe as celestial; the feeling that behind that prism lay a kaleidoscope of mystery not entirely of this realm.
Sister Mary Ephraim, though short in physical stature, towered above most when it came to persistence and achieving her goals; this matter was no less different than raising money for the orphanage or feeding the neighborhood poor, she came for her sister; she would leave with her one way or other.