Death at Christy Burke's Read Online Free Page A

When the music died out, Michael and his companions pondered their empty glasses. Time for another round?
    “Here she is!” Monty exclaimed.
    There in the doorway, peering into the dim interior, was Kitty Curran. Short, a little on the plump side, with reddish curls turning grey, the nun was dressed in civilian clothes: a navy skirt, a sky-blue sweater over a white shirt, and a discreet gold cross above her left breast.
    Monsignor O’Flaherty sat rooted in his chair, beaming in the direction of the door.
    “Monsignor?” Brennan prompted him with his left eyebrow raised.
    “Good heavens, where are my manners?” Michael rose and made for the new arrival. “Kitty! Kitty! Over here. Isn’t this grand! How are you?”
    She held out her arms, and he stepped into her embrace. She planted a big kiss on his cheek and then tugged him to his table. “That lipstick on your cheek, Michael. Whatever will they say at the parochial house?” Michael’s hand shot up to his left cheek, and she laughed. “I don’t paint my face, a chara !”
    “How’ve you been, darlin’?” Brennan asked. “Any big shakeups in the Vatican I should know about?” He stood and embraced her.
    “They’re talking about you for the red hat, but I told them the Reverend Doctor Brennan Xavier Burke is content to serve as a humble parish priest to the end of his days. Monty! Is all of Halifax over here?”
    “Everyone who’s anyone is here in this very room. Good to see you, Kitty.”
    “Now make yourself comfortable, Kitty,” Michael said. “Here, would you like this seat? You’ll be able to see the band. Or how about this one? Farther away from Brennan and his cigarettes, should he be so inconsiderate as to light one up again.”
    “I’m grand, Michael, thank you. I’ll sit right here. If Brennan does anything to get on my nerves, I’ll crack his knuckles with my ruler.”
    “What can I get you to drink, Kitty?”
    “Considering the company I’m keeping, I’ll have a parish priest.”
    Michael stared. He wasn’t sure how to respond, until Brennan started to laugh, then called over to Finn: “Something tall and black with a white collar for the lady here, Finn.”
    “Coming up.” He proceeded to pour her the customary pint of dark stout with white foam on top, and Michael caught on.
    “Now. Kitty. Are you hungry at all? Should we be thinking of something to eat for you? Finn doesn’t serve meals here, but . . .”
    “No, Michael, I’m grand, I’m telling you. There are Dublin men who went to work for a day with nothing but Guinness to sustain them, and I’m in solidarity with them. Bring it on. Speaking of solidarity with the workers, Monty, where is your lovely wife? She’s a bit of a commie, is she not? And don’t waste my time telling me she’s not your wife anymore, or whatever trouble you imagine you’ve brought upon yourself. Life is short. Is she here?”
    “Not yet, but she’s coming with Normie and the baby. She’s very keen to see you.” The two women had struck up a friendship in the short time Kitty had been in Halifax.
    “Splendid! When can we expect her?”
    “A week from tomorrow. I’m at the Jury’s Inn, Christchurch, and all I could get is a single room; they’re very booked up for the summer. I’ll have to find another place.”
    “Tell her I have a convent with several rooms vacant, if she and the children would like to stay there. Much more economical than a hotel. I can’t invite you, Monty, sorry to say. Mother Superior’s ninety-two but, from what I hear, she doesn’t miss a trick. So she’d notice if there was a man lurking about the premises . . .”
    “No problem. I’m sure Maura would love to join you there.”
    “Perfect. Where are the rest of you staying?”
    “I’m at a B and B in Gardiner Street,” Michael replied, “and Brennan’s not far from Monty’s hotel, staying with some other priests in a house near the John’s Lane church. One of the priests is his cousin, if