It was more than a little embarrassing I can tell you, there I had been chasing a girl only to have her father tell me that she was a nun. Not easily swallowed but I took the bitter pill and resigned myself to the fact that I had been toyed with by a sister in remission. If it ever got out then I would never live it down, but then it wasn't exactly the first time that I had crashed and burned for the sake of another chick. Pretending not to be to thrown by M. Burune's statement I alleged that it didn't matter wether she was a nun or a lesbian but that I would speak to here later and that I was simply an old friend,
"Tell her that Sean said 'Hi' and that I'll catch up with her later."
In the meantime I was about ready for lunch and needed a drink, there were more than enough restaurants around but had found the renowned spare ribs emporium called 'The Hobbit' and took myself to that sacred place for a drink and something's flesh. Here the wine flowed and the beer followed, helped down by dripping red meat in barbecue sauce. It probably wouldn't be long before I tired of this luxury and went back to hard living in Blighty. There was only so much that I could afford with no promise of a further case waiting for me back at the office. It was about then that I decided to have few more drinks...
God alone knows what happened to me for the rest of that day, the Devil alone knows what happened to me for the rest of that night as I dare say that God had little to do with it. I can only guess that the regulars of Remy's Bar caught up with me because I was left with a black eye, cabbage ear and what could only be called 'Curried Guts' the next morning but at least I had got back to my hotel. The headache I can only call icing on the cake as it hurt far less than the rest of me.
Rolling over in what I
hoped were only vomit stained sheets my momentary absence of feeling in the
inner ear threw me off the bed and onto a pair of well polished shoes..
Well polished shoes means only one thing....
"I'm sorry officer, if it is about the noise I can offer some compensation to the Hotelliers and guests.... '
"M. Morgan, shall I waste my breath by asking you if you can tell me where you were all last night.... I thought not. My name is Inspector Lehrman, you were seen leaving the bar known as 'Remy's' the night before last with one Gunni Burune and were asking questions after her of her father Cecil Burune by the Canal Tours, Dock C, the morning after. The girl has now gone missing.
The staff of Remy's hold that you were causing trouble last night in the same said bar complaining of a woman that had, and I quote 'Brung me low', would you care to elaborate?"
'Brung me low', ye gods, I must have been drunk to have dredged HER up in all my haze..
"You're guess is as good as mine Inpsector Leman..."
"Lehrman!"
"Sorry, Learman, but your guess IS as good as mine if not better, but you do not send an Inspector to hassle drunken tourists who have overstayed their welcome. Give me a moment and tell me what you want."
(Surprisingly clear thinking, considering my state).
Not being an unjust man Inspector Lehrman give me a moment to clear my head, I didn't need to dress as I had apparently slept in and soiled my clothes. Taking a moment, several mouthfuls of water from the sink I straightened up.
"Thank you, now what is wrong?"
"M. Morgan, I understand that your profession is that you are too an investigator, can I assume that you are in Bruges on a case? No? Ah well, then we can assume that your connection to Mme Gunni Burune is not a professional one. She is missing and when a Private Investigator is seen asking for her when cannot but help be suspicious after all it is what we are both paid to be, is it not?
"Nonetheless she is missing and we believe you may know something of her whereabouts, you are required to come to the Police Station on Romstraat, just by the Town Hall, this afternoon and make a statement. Unfortunately for our townsfolk we must ask you not to leave Bruges until we permit you is that clear?"
What could I say, but that I would need a cheaper hotel certainly. This, I was informed, was my own problem. So too was the matter of clean clothes.
* * *
Oddly enough I didn't feel too much like breakfast that morning, feeling that something had died in my throat and guts. I decided to find what could be construed as the cleanest clothes that I owned at the time and went shopping. It was time to make use of that misdirected credit card that arrived at one of my offices one day. So as Henry Barnes I went shopping. Risking arrest for the second time I left the Clockworks store in some new and natty threads, pausing only for a chocolate waffle and a T-Shirt emplazoned with the image of Snowy the Dog, he of Tintin fame. But before I called in upon M. L'Inspector I had a call of my own to make, at the convent of St. John the Hospitaller.
There are many applicable rules in the text book of people hunting, I prefer to go straight in with the most important questions,
"'Scuse me miss, I'm looking for Gunni, Sister Gunni Burune, do you know where I can find her?" That's it, play dumb Sean and make the answers come to you. The blank response from the first Sister was more than likely the language barrier, so I carried on trying with various other ambulant penguins.....when eventually...
"You there!" Came a voice that I'd swear I had left behind when I finished school. "Yes, you! What on Earth do you think you are doing interfereing with the sisters of this house, hmm?"
Here comes the slightly more professional bit,
"Sean Morgan, Private Investigator. I'm looking for Gunni Burune, she is a nun here, or was before she went missing. I thought I'd begin looking here. Listen, her Old Man's very worried.." Aha, at mention of her 'Old Man' the head penguin flinched. So here was weak spot, "He told me Yesterday that I could find her here, but the night before she had her glad rags on and was busying about town picking up tourists in a less than savoury bar. I need to know whatever you can tell me before her Dad finds out about her 'nun' so pristine habits and ruins the image he has of his saintly daughter."
"Not so loud M. Morgan," she mumbled as she swept passed me, "Come with me and we shall talk in my office."
This place was well kept, I couldn't help but feel disappointed at that there were no cobwebs or inches thick banks of dust everywhere. This place had linoleum floors, institution beige walls and a cloying disinfectant smell, I guessed as it used to be a hospital old habits died hard. The chief nun certainly seemed to have lasted a long time.
With an incriminating glare, almost as though she had read my last thought, she pushed open a door which, I discovered lead into a plush office. The desk was most elaborate with a bankers light and a leather cushioned, bolt upright chair. All the trimmings of that room I dreaded most, that of the local Bank Manager's office. But of course this had also been a hospital of sorts and there is always such a blemish in the design schematics as such a building.
Upon entering I espied a ancient looking tome upon Mother Superior's desk, what else would you find in such a place? I was dissappointed, once I had snatched it up, to find that it was merely and old hym book. Everything in Latin, so it was therefore an old book than few people that only these nuns had the inclination and ability to read.
"So, M. Morgan, " she began, "You are the latest victim, of our most wayward lamb,"
I didn't like the way this was starting...
"You are not the first man to come here looking for our little sister, she has such a will to rebel that we cannot contain her within these walls."
I didn't like the way this was continuing either...
"I understood that this was a convent, not a prison, besides I am no victim, not yet at least."
Mother Superior shifted awkwardly in her habit,
"I may spare you a few minutes and will answer such questions as I may, God willing." She nodded as she said this in truly reverant fashion, gone was the bite that she had shown earlier. I didn't like it when people were too compliant, it was unnerving.
"First and foremost, did Miss Burune often escape these walls to pickup tourists? It doesn't strike me as her usual routine, she seemed like such a nice girl."
With a sigh the Chief Nun shifted again, dropped her shoulders with resigned failure and said, "Gunni, is truly wayward and warms to the tourists, her father is English and so she feels a natural affinity with such as yourself. It is most likely that she saw you alone and felt sorry for you, she has done this before with other travellers."
"And now she is missing, kidnapped perhaps by another lonely soul keeping himself to himself on the dark streets of Bruges. Except that he may not be keeping himself to himself. When was the last time you saw her?"
"The night before last, I caught her sneaking back in through the back door after her nocturnal perambulations, she had been drinking."
That was the night I had been with her, she had probably just left me. That at least cleared up the possibilty that I had taken her on that night. This too should help the Inspector.
"And then she went to bed as far as you know, no other outings that night that you know of?"
"That is correct, as far as I know." She answered.
"What colour was her blouse that night?", time for me to get tricky with her.
"I beleive it was her blue one, but I could be wrong, I was beside myself with anger and pity for her. The colour of her blouse was not uppermost in my mind."
Perhaps this was the case but...
"So if I tell you that she was, in fact, wearing a rather striking jumper that night, with many stripes of differing colours this will not shock you?"
This was very lame trick, in fact not even a trick but I was not looking to prove her wrong on anything but to see her reaction and how flustered she became. If she was hiding something she would panic, if not ...
"I hardly see how I was meant to remember such a thing M. Morgan, of all the impertinence! It was a warm night, perhaps she had taken it off!"
The nun was raising her voice considerably, this was unexpected.
"It was raining, you stupid woman, she would have been soaked to the bone by the time she got back here if anything she would have put even more clothes on! Now tell me the truth or..." I paused dramatically to pick up the ancient hymn book from the desk and pull out my Zippo, " I shall smoke me a psalm or two."