‘The next day I was called to Mother Superior’s office. Bishop Malone was there. He was angry and demanded to know if I knew Missy was going to run away, and if so, where she had gone. Initially I stuck to my story but was so incensed about the beating Sister Margaret had given me I told him Missy said she was going to write a letter to him about how abusive they were to the children.’

‘How did they all react?’ Jane asked.

‘He pointed his finger at me and accused me of lying. He said Missy had broken her vows and betrayed God and the Church by running away. Bishop Malone was only interested in protecting the good name of Mother Superior and the convent. He said Mother Superior would inform everyone that Missy had sought dispensation from her vows, which he had granted.’

Jane sighed. ‘Archbishop Malone seems to have a history of covering things up that look bad for the Church. He was also suspected of being abusive to children when he was a priest. Do you know if he was abusive to any of the children at your convent?’

‘I don’t think so. He rarely visited and was usually with other people when he did.’

‘Did no one think it strange that Missy didn’t say goodbye?’ Boon asked.

Julie shook her head. ‘There’s a “shroud of secrecy” when a Sister chooses to leave. They are under strict orders not to tell anyone or say goodbye and usually leave during the night. You have to understand that obedience was paramount in everything we did.’

‘What happened to you after the meeting?’

‘Mother Superior removed me from teaching the children and I ended up doing all the worst jobs around the convent for months. But I didn’t regret what I’d said to Bishop Malone about the abuse because I knew Missy would have been proud of me.’

‘I don’t wish to sound insensitive, but did you ever wonder why Missy didn’t try and make contact with you?’ Jane asked.

‘I like to think she wrote to me, but Missy knew all our incoming and outgoing mail was checked and censored by Mother Superior and Sister Margaret in case it contained something offensive to our vocation. They would have destroyed any letters Missy sent me. Some of my own letters from home were so inked out by them there was hardly anything left to read. I used to cry, worrying over what my mother had been trying to tell me, but there was no way I could ever know. It never occurred to me Missy might be dead. To now know she was murdered is beyond belief. Are you really sure it’s her?’

‘I hate to say it, Julie, but even more so now.’

‘But why? It just doesn’t make any sense. Who on earth would want to kill Missy?’