Angel Among Us by Katy Munger

held a potato peeler in one hand and a partially peeled apple in the other. She was staring at the agent with a blank look on her face.
    â€˜Did you hear what I said?’ the agent asked impatiently.
    The old butler hustled through the door and put his hands on the housekeeper’s shoulders. He turned her around and led her to the sink where a mound of apples waited to be peeled. ‘I’ll take care of it, sir,’ he told the agent.
    The agent was staring thoughtfully at the old woman, looking her up and down as if she were livestock that he was contemplating buying. Then he glanced at the old man, shrugged and walked from the room.
    As soon as he was gone, the woman grabbed the butler’s arm and asked him in a frightened voice, ‘Who was he? Is he here to take me away?’
    â€˜Just peel the apples, Muriel,’ the old man said wearily. ‘It’s OK. I’m right here and I will take care of it.’ He gently picked up her hand holding the potato peeler and helped her get back into the rhythm of the task. She fell to peeling automatically until she did not even seem to notice him any more. I felt no emotion from her at all once the flare-up of fear had passed. In fact, I felt very little from her other than a sort of humming that came from where most people held their memories.
    She would be of little help to Maggie or Calvano. Her mind was going and the old man was fighting a losing battle to disguise it.

ELEVEN
    I returned to the library, where Maggie and Calvano were talking to a nervous-looking Mexican man who sat on the edge of an armchair and wrung his hands as he answered their questions. Apparently, his name was Rodrigo Flores and he was head gardener, a position that came with room and board, including a private bathroom at the rear of the house.
    â€˜Do you know her?’ Maggie asked, showing him the photos of Arcelia Gallagher.
    The man nodded rapidly, fearful of the police and nervous because of it. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Yes, I know her. She is from my church.’
    Calvano tried to put the poor man at ease. ‘St Raphael’s?’ Calvano asked. ‘I know it. I go there sometimes for late mass. It’s a very beautiful church.’
    The man gulped and nodded.
    â€˜Look,’ Calvano said. ‘We’re not Immigration. We’re not asking to see your papers.’
    I thought the man might faint. ‘Papers? I have my papers,’ he said quickly, pulling documents from his jacket pocket.
    Maggie held up her hand. ‘No, no. We’re not asking for papers. No. We just want to know if Arcelia Gallagher was here last week.’
    The man nodded reluctantly.
    â€˜Why?’ Calvano asked.
    The man looked away, as if he found the books on the shelves fascinating.
    â€˜You do know she is missing?’ Maggie asked the man.
    The gardener looked up in surprise. He had not known Arcelia Gallagher was missing. ‘Missing?’ His eyes darted from Maggie to Calvano.
    â€˜For over a day now,’ Calvano explained. ‘We need to know why she was here. It may be related.’
    The man shook his head vigorously. ‘No, not related,’ he said. ‘Not related at all.’
    â€˜Well, what was it? Why was she here?’ Maggie asked. Her voice had hardened. She was not above using intimidation to find out what she needed to know.
    â€˜I cannot tell you,’ he stammered. ‘You must ask the priest. I cannot tell you.’
    Calvano and Maggie looked resigned. They both knew what priest the gardener meant – and Father Sojak had said nothing about Delmonte House.
    â€˜Did you talk to her while she was out here?’
    The gardener nodded solemnly. ‘Yes. But she was fine when she left. It was last Thursday. She drove herself out here even though her child is not far off. I saw her leave myself.’
    â€˜You saw her leave after she did what out here?’ Maggie tried again.
    Rodrigo looked