The Three Sisters (12 page)

What would drive Detective Hole’s friends to endure hours of dull diatribes as interesting and compelling as
The Congressional Record
? How could they watch others gasp for air as his monotone sneaked up from behind and stifled each of them until they slipped into a state of soporific non-existence? The answer was simple. All of Detective Hole’s colleagues knew that if they tried to stop him from his attacks on Catholicism, he would tell some of his religious riddles. Suffice it to say that men are known to have committed suicide rather than listen to Detective Hole rattle off his feeble attempts at humor, which were more likely to bring tears to the eyes than laughter from the heart. A typical Schmuck Hole riddle
ran thus:

“Who was the shortest man in
the Bible?”

“Bildad
the Shohite.”

Some of them were
even worse.

“What did Adam say
to Eve?”

“Don’t rib
me, woman.”

For the reader’s sake, the
last example.

“Who in the Bible drank
the most?”

“Obed-edom
the Gittite.”

Each joke would be followed by his punctuated, meek laughter.

Year after year, Detective Hole continued with his harangues against Catholicism and offered his riddles, for despite the pain and suffering which his colleagues were forced to endure, none of them dared to tell Detective Hole what they really thought of him because of his superior position on the bureaucratic ladder. His colleagues’ only consolation was that on occasion Detective Hole provided his listeners some variety by discussing two other threats to the nation which concerned him. First, there was the moral degeneracy of America and the country’s need for spiritual regeneration. Second, there was the proper role of women in the world. Only his movement from one subject to another kept his fellow bureaucrats from suffering a
self-induced lobotomy.

On these other two subjects, Detective Hole had collected numerous books for his library as well. He had memorized the countless facts which, by their sum and weight, proved his beliefs. He would often quote the verses of the celibate Ann Lee to assure everyone wherein the world’s
problems lay:

“As Lust conceived by
the Fall

Hath more or less
infected all;

So we believe ’tis
only this

That keepeth Souls from
perfect Bliss.”

The astorgious detective was also a chauvinist of the highest order who read with great gullibility the ancient debates disputing whether women had souls or not, for he truly believed, as Origen had, that on Judgment Day all women would be turned into men. Not only could he quote by heart such tell-tale verses from the Old Testament and the Apocrypha as Sirach
42
:
14
(“Better is the wickedness of a man than a woman who does good.”), but he could also supply a battery of verses from the more authoritative New Testament (I Timothy
2
:
12
-
14
, Ephesians
5
:
22
-
24
, Colossians
3
:
18
, I Corinthians
11
:
3
-
10
and others), which in his mind validated the opinions he held on matters of equal rights between the sexes.

If Detective Hole had studied Thomas Aquinas, he certainly would have agreed with him when Aquinas said, “In her particular nature, woman is something defective and accidental. If a girl is born, it is due to the weakness of the generative principle, or imperfection in the pre-existing mother, or a change produced by external causes, for example, the humid winds from the south as Aristotle says.” Books which disagreed with Detective Hole’s convictions were not to be found in
his library.

There were four concerns to which Detective Hole had devoted his life: the bringing of criminals to justice, the fight against the worldwide Catholic menace, the extirpation of moral degeneracy, and the maintenance of men’s rightful position over women. All were causes which reinforced one another, and it is no wonder that the apotropaic puritan had volunteered to bring the three sisters to justice on the day he had learned of their existence.

Upon hearing about their escape from jail in Tennessee, Detective Hole immediately began to gather information about the suspects. He personally went down to Tennessee to improve upon the sparse information his office had about the three. He spent countless hours on the phone following leads and sent others to various spots around the country to increase the size of their burgeoning files on each of the three sisters. Detective Hole devoted himself to the case completely, even after he left the office each day, and bore the burden of the case as if his very life depended upon bringing the three Catholic criminals back into custody. Others would go home to their families at night, but having no family, Detective Hole stayed at the office, or took his work home to study and consider the case as long as his body would allow. When he had learned of the stolen Hearse’s recovery in Kentucky, he had briefly thought their capture certain, but now he had his doubts. Their trail had been lost completely, and he realized that if he did not act now, he could lose track of the three Catholics for weeks, months, or even years. He was determined not to let
this happen.

At two minutes past eight, Detective Hole heard his doorbell ring. After putting his glasses back on, the detective made his way through his Spartan, one-bedroom house, built about thirty years before, to the front door. After unlocking several bolts and chains, Detective Hole let John Hotchkiss into
his house.

“You’re late,” began
Detective Hole.

“Sorry, but I kept hitting red lights,” explained John as they walked back towards the library through the
darkened halls.

“We must prepare for every contingency in life, John, and we must overcome all obstacles,” advised Detective Hole as he sat back down in his chair, “not make excuses for them, which brings us to the matter
at hand.”

“The nuns?” asked John Hotchkiss, loosening his tie before turning on another light and trying to find the least uncomfortable of the detective’s aged chairs. The house seemed to John like it was more of a monastery than a home, but he never told his superior this lest it ruin his chances of getting
a promotion.

“The criminals. We have lost their trail, and there is no telling what they could do next. Something must be done now to stop them before they commit
more crimes.”

“Well, we’ve been watching their residence here in the D.C. area just in case they are stupid enough to return home,” he perfunctorily reported, “but they have yet to make that fatal mistake. Also, when we found the car today, we kept about a half-dozen men staked out around the Rams’ vehicle in case they returned, but unfortunately they didn’t. We’re checking up on reports of other stolen vehicles, but we haven’t gotten any leads yet. Don’t worry though; sooner or later they’ll turn up somewhere. And when they do, we’ll get them,” promised John Hotchkiss as he slammed his fist into his palm. “Kind of funny them living right here in the
D.C. area.”

“Actually, it doesn’t surprise me at all,” Detective Hole admitted, briefly resting every few words. “I didn’t have to live here long to realize that many unclean minds flourished in the nation’s capital. Nor did it surprise me that these criminals were Catholics. Did you see if they were connected
with Georgetown?”

“We’re checking on that
now, sir.”

“Good, but what bothers me is that we almost had them in Kentucky, but they slipped away. And where did they go to? Washington, D.C., right here where we live. Now they’ve probably left the Washington area and are heading further north, perhaps to Canada, or they may still be here in
the area.”

“I’ll make sure the border patrol is on the lookout for them, sir,” promised the
efficient bureaucrat.

“They seem to always be one step ahead of us,” Detective Hole complained. “We can’t let three women, three Catholic women at that, outsmart us, John. We must recapture them. It’s a matter
of honor.”

“You’re absolutely right, sir,” agreed John, pulling a coin out of
his pocket.

“If only there were some pattern, some logic in their actions. Then we would have something to go on. There must be some method in their madness, but for the life of me I haven’t discovered it. Even women have some logical facilities, but why would they do the things they’ve done?” The detective paused for a rhetorical second. “I
don’t know.”

“It’s a very difficult case, sir, but all we can do is hope that they slip up somewhere and are captured.” John began flipping his coin in the air to make sure the law of averages
still held.

“No, John, I don’t think that’s enough,” Detective Hole insisted, looking directly at his aide and leaning out of his chair a little. “We must find them immediately. It’s hard to explain, but in all the years I’ve been an investigator, I’ve never felt stronger about a case. Something about these women bothers me. For instance, why have they become criminals? Apparently, they had a religious upbringing, well a Catholic upbringing, and had dedicated themselves to God. Yet now, they’ve abandoned all that for a life of crime. It just doesn’t make sense. I ask you, would a Protestant upbringing have brought about such a violent reaction
against religion?”

“Well, offhand I can think of
several Baptists—”

“No, it wouldn’t have. We must do something that will ensure their imminent capture, John.” Detective Hole fell back in his chair and began studying his
bookshelves again.

John Hotchkiss looked at his watch, flipped the coin again, and made a suggestion. “I think I could probably get a few more men on the case by next week, sir, possibly another five the week after if we can pick up some more clues, but as you know our department’s budget isn’t exactly expanding.” John had counted ten heads and five tails. He was beginning
to worry.

“No.” Detective Hole looked at John intently. “Putting more men on the case is not the solution. I don’t think one or two men are going to make that much difference. What we need are a million eyes placed everywhere in our great nation to watch for these three nuns wherever
they go.”

“I don’t think we could get enough money for a force of
500
,
000
men,” objected Mr. Hotchkiss, trying to be realistic. “Even the secret service’s funds are limited. Imagine having their budget,” he thought aloud. “No, we’ll just have to hope we
get lucky.”

“One cannot always depend on luck,” advised Detective Hole, raising his eyebrows and pointing his finger in the air. “But we can change our luck. We, the children of God, must always take the initiative before
Satan does.”

“Excuse me, sir, but do you mind if I go get something
to drink?”

“No, John. You know where I keep the water in
the refrigerator.”

By now John Hotchkiss knew how to maneuver his way to the kitchen without turning any lights on, but while Hotchkiss was getting his glass of boiled and purified water, Detective Hole reflected over his own words. Suddenly, the detective was inspired with a solution for locating the three sisters. He thanked God for helping him, and when John Hotchkiss returned, Detective Hole disclosed
his idea.

“John, God has revealed to me how we can recapture the three criminals. You see, what we need to do is to use America’s greatest resource to bring about their recapture, and that great resource is our children, our youth. They are everywhere, and if we can convince them to help us recapture the three nuns, those criminals will not escape us. Getting the youth of America to help us should be simple. If we offer a substantial reward, there should be some potential young entrepreneur out there who will be more than happy to help us find
the culprits.”

“Sounds good, sir,” assured the blandiloquent bureaucrat, “but I think we have to ask ourselves two questions: first, how much of a reward, and second, where do we get the money from? It would probably take at least a week to get the funds approved, and time is of the utmost importance.” John now had fourteen heads and twelve tails. He was resting
more easily.