The Undertaker's Daughter (Ilka #1)(40)

Sister Eileen said nothing, even though she was the one who dealt with the suppliers.

“What about one of the coffins we have in storage?” Ilka suggested. “One is light blue; another is white. And we have that big black one that was in the garage. Is it in the storage room now?”

“We can’t use that one; it was delivered by mistake and will be picked back up. It’s way too expensive to keep.”

Ilka didn’t answer, but she wrote: “Find coffin.”

“We’re low on formaldehyde,” Artie said.

“Let’s finish this first,” Ilka said. “What else do we need for tomorrow?”

“Flowers are to be delivered, and there will be catering,” the nun said. “I’ve ordered both.”

“But the Norton family is bringing the flowers,” Ilka reminded her.

“There are always flowers in the chapel and out in the foyer during funeral services,” the sister calmly answered. “Those are the flowers I ordered.”

Ilka nodded and made a note of it.

Sister Eileen hadn’t touched the coffee or the chocolates, and suddenly Ilka remembered that she usually drank tea. How could she have forgotten?

“I’ve spoken with Ed McKenna’s daughter,” the nun continued. “She’s coming to see her father this weekend. It sounds like she wants to take him home to Albany, which means we’ll need a zinc coffin.”

Ilka lifted an eyebrow. “For the plane,” Artie explained. “When the deceased are flown, they have to be in zinc coffins.”

Ilka nodded thoughtfully when he added that there were many on domestic flights.

“The distances are too long to drive,” he said. “But there are strict rules for transporting them, of course. The coffins have to be zinc lined and contain absorbent material. We use charcoal powder. And then there must be a pressure equalizer. And the deceased must be embalmed. And usually the coffin has to be wrapped so the other passengers can’t see there’s a dead body on board.”

Suddenly he seemed to take her wanting to be fully informed very literally.

“If there isn’t anything more, I’d like to unpack my things now,” Sister Eileen said, a bit sharply. She stood without waiting for an answer.

Artie was also on his feet. He wanted to take care of Mike Gilbert so his mother could view him when she came.

“How much formaldehyde?” Ilka yelled after him.

For a moment, she sat alone, staring into space before slowly rising and walking over to find the file with the Nortons’ funeral service notes. After laying it on the table, she walked out to the sister’s desk in the reception area. A calendar lay open on the thick green desk mat; beside it lay a black leather-bound telephone book with JENSEN FUNERAL HOME printed on it.

Ilka found the order book in the top drawer. It wasn’t difficult to locate the coffin supplier where most of the sister’s orders were made. She cleared her throat and dialed, with the order number on Mrs. Norton’s coffin in hand.

“Why do you say you can’t deliver coffins to us?” she said, baffled by what she’d been told. “You just received our order. You could have said you don’t want to do business with us anymore when we sent the order, to avoid this terrible situation we’re in. The family is in. We’re holding a funeral service tomorrow, and the relatives expect to see the deceased in the coffin they ordered. No, I will not listen! You listen. It’s unprofessional and horrible, what you’re doing. Maybe it’s right that we’ve exceeded our credit and you’ve had to send several reminders. But as you might know, Paul Jensen is dead and I’ve taken over and I’m trying the best I can to finish the agreements the funeral home has made. Of course we will pay what we owe you, but you must deliver the coffin we need now. And I’d like to—”

Ilka didn’t know when they’d hung up; all she knew was that she was listening to static. She looked up and saw Sister Eileen turn around in the doorway—hadn’t she gone over to unpack? How long had she been listening? She didn’t care for the nun observing her like that.

She found two more coffin suppliers in the order book and made a call. “Yes, we’re prepared to pay extra to have FedEx deliver it today.”

Her tense shoulders relaxed, and she leaned back in her chair. The supplier asked for the name and address of their funeral home.

“Jensen Funeral Home,” she began, but was interrupted before she could give their address.

“Unfortunately you what?” This time Ilka tried to control herself and sound friendly. “I can assure you we’ll pay what we owe you. We’re in the middle of a sort of generational change here; we’re putting in new systems to stop this type of error.”

Generational change my ass, she thought. She briefly debated with herself whether she should continue this way until she found a supplier who didn’t already know them.

“Yes,” she said, “please send a bill on what we owe. Have a nice day.”

After trying two more suppliers, she gave up in anger. She went out and hammered on the preparation room door until some sort of electric machinery was shut off and Artie opened up.

She couldn’t help noticing the naked body on the steel table by the wall. She stiffened for a moment, but then she pulled herself together and walked inside. “It can’t be true that we owe money to every single coffin supplier in North America, can it? I can’t buy a coffin anywhere.”