The Sands of Time. Sidney Sheldon

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      Graciela chose a white cotton dress that set off her black hair and dark complexion, and a pair of sandals.

      Megan chose a patterned blue cotton dress that fell below the knees and low-heeled shoes.

      Sister Teresa had the most difficult time choosing something to wear. The array of choices was too dazzling. There were silks and flannels and tweeds and leather. There were cottons and twills and corduroys, and there were plaids and checks and stripes of every colour. And they all seemed – skimpy, was the word that came to Sister Teresa’s mind. For the past thirty years she had been decently covered by the heavy robes of her calling. And now she was being asked to shed them and put on these indecent creations. She finally selected the longest skirt she could find, and a long-sleeved, high-collared cotton blouse.

      Friar Carrillo urged, ‘Hurry, Sisters. Get undressed and change.’

      They looked at one another in embarrassment.

      He smiled. ‘I’ll wait in the office, of course.’

      He walked to the back of the shop and entered the office.

      The sisters began to undress, painfully self-conscious in front of one another.

      In the office, Friar Carrillo had pulled a chair up to the transom and was looking out through it, watching the sisters strip. He was thinking: Which one am I going to screw first?

      Miguel Carrillo had begun his career as a thief when he was only ten years old. He was born with curly blond hair and an angelic face, and they had proved to be of inestimable value in his chosen profession. He started at the bottom, snatching handbags and shoplifting, and as he got older, his career expanded and he began robbing drunks and preying on wealthy women. Because of his enormous appeal, he was very successful. He devised several original swindles, each more ingenious than the last. Unfortunately, his latest swindle had proved to be his undoing.

      Posing as a friar from a distant monastery, Carrillo travelled from church to church begging sanctuary for the night. It was always granted, and in the morning when the priest came to open the church doors, all the valuable artefacts would be missing, along with the good friar. Unfortunately, fate had double-crossed him and two nights earlier in Benjar, a small town near Ávila, the priest had returned unexpectedly and Miguel Carrillo had been caught in the act of pilfering the church treasury. The priest was a beefy, heavyset man, and he had wrestled Carrillo to the floor and announced that he was going to turn him over to the police. A heavy silver chalice had fallen to the floor, and Carrillo had picked it up and hit the priest with it. Either the chalice was too heavy, or the priest’s skull was too thin, but in any case the priest lay dead on the floor. Miguel Carrillo had fled, panicky, anxious to put himself as far away from the scene of the crime as possible. He had passed through Ávila and heard the story of the attack on the convent by Colonel Acoca and the secret GOE. It was fate that Carrillo had chanced upon the four escaped nuns.

      Now, eager with anticipation, he studied their naked bodies, and thought: There’s another interesting possibility. Since Colonel Acoca and his men are looking for the sisters, there is probably a nice, fat reward on their heads. I’ll lay them first, and then turn them over to Acoca.

      The women, except for Lucia, who was already dressed, were totally naked. Carrillo watched as they awkwardly put on the new underclothes. Then they finished dressing, clumsily buttoning unaccustomed buttons and fastening zips, hurrying to get away before they were caught.

      Time to get to work, Carrillo thought happily. He got down from the chair and walked out into the shop. He approached the women, studied them approvingly, and said, ‘Excellent. No one in the world would ever take you for nuns. I might suggest scarves for your heads.’ He selected one for each of them and watched them put them on.

      Miguel Carrillo had made his decision. Graciela was going to be the first. She was undoubtedly one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen. And that body! How could she have wasted it on God? I’ll show her what to do with it.

      He said to Lucia, Teresa and Megan, ‘You must all be hungry. I want you to go to the cafe we passed and wait for us there. I’ll go to the church and borrow some money from the priest so we can eat.’ He turned to Graciela. ‘I want you to come with me, Sister, to explain to the priest what happened at the convent.’

      ‘I– very well.’

      Carrillo said to the others, ‘We’ll be along in a little while. I would suggest you use the back door.’

      He watched as Lucia, Teresa and Megan left. When he heard the door close behind them, he turned to Graciela. She’s fantastic, he thought. Maybe I’ll keep her with me, break her in to some cons. She could be a big help.

      Graciela was watching him. ‘I’m ready.’

      ‘Not yet.’ Carrillo pretended to study her for a moment. ‘No, I’m afraid it won’t do. That dress is all wrong for you. Take it off.’

      ‘But – why?’

      ‘It doesn’t fit properly,’ Carrillo said glibly. ‘People will notice, and you don’t want to attract attention.’

      She hesitated, then moved behind a rack.

      ‘Hurry, now. We have very little time.’

      Awkwardly, Graciela slipped the dress over her head. She was in her panties and brassiere when Carrillo suddenly appeared.

      ‘Take everything off.’ His voice was husky.

      Graciela stared at him. ‘What? No!’ she cried. ‘I – I can’t. Please – I –’

      Carrillo moved closer to her. ‘I’ll help you, Sister.’

      His hands reached out and he ripped off her brassiere and tore at her panties.

      ‘No!’ she screamed. ‘You mustn’t! Stop it!’

      Carrillo grinned. ‘Carita, we’re just getting started. You’re going to love this.’

      His strong arms were around her. He forced her to the floor and lifted his robe.

      It was as though a curtain in Graciela’s mind suddenly descended. It was the Moor trying to thrust himself inside her, tearing into the depths of her, and her mother’s shrill voice was screaming.

      And Graciela thought, terrified, No, not again. No, please – not again …

      She was struggling fiercely now, fighting Carrillo off, trying to get up.

      ‘Goddamn you,’ he cried.

      He slammed his fist into her face, and Graciela fell back, stunned and dizzy.

      She found herself spinning back in time.

      Back … Back …

       Chapter Six

      Las Navas del Marqués, Spain 1950

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