Page 41 of Blood Game

“But you didn't,” she guessed. It would have been that expression she was seeing now that would have persuaded Sister Margaret.

“Aye, well, she did have her favorites,” he admitted. “She also played a mean game of football—much like your soccer. In full dress habit—goalie,” he added.

Go figure, Kris thought. “And you got off with a warning about your lustful ways.”

“Something like that.”

“May I help you, please?” the student attendant asked as they reached the reception counter.

He directed them to the stairwell that led to the second-floor classrooms and instructors offices.

Diana Jodion was small and slender, streaks of gray highlighting dark, shoulder-length hair swept back from her face and secured with a clip. Soft grey eyes held the expression of the teacher—calm, intelligent, but with a passion for her work.

“I was most surprised when I received your call, and curious,” Diana greeted them.

They spoke briefly about the book that Ellison had published on the Bayeaux Tapestry.

“I was a junior editor at the time,” Kris explained. “But I was fascinated by the history of the tapestry, and the enormous amount of work that went into it—the dyes, the intricate needlework, the number of seamstresses who worked on it over the years, and the political climate of the time. Not to mention the fact that it survived over hundreds of years.”

Ms. Jodion inclined her head slightly, her expression thoughtful.

“I think you are not here to discuss the Bayeaux.”

Kris took out the photograph Cate had sent her. “I was hoping you might be able to tell me something about this.”

Diana Jodion studied the scan of the photograph Cate had sent, her expression softening.

“Ah, yes, the Raveneau Tapestry,” she replied, almost with reverence.

Kris exchanged a look with James. She had hoped that Diana Jodion might be able to tell them something about it, but this was more than she expected.

“You recognize it?”

“It is from the Medieval period, fourteenth century.” Diana looked up then, her expression almost wistful.

“Where did you get this?”

“Cate Ross sent it to me. What do you know about it?”

Diana nodded. “She too had questions when she contacted me. She said that she needed my expertise. That is all she told me. I had no idea what it was about.” She was visibly taken aback, then smiled.

“You must forgive me. I have spent a lifetime studying and teaching about these magnificent pieces of art, not unlike a curator of a museum with the great masters before him—the techniques, the history, the unbelievable details, perhaps not appreciated like a Van Gogh or Renoir, but unique and so very beautiful in their own way. And this,” she gestured to the photograph, “is like seeing a ghost.”

“A ghost?”

Diana smiled. “The Raveneau tapestry was lesser known than the Bayeaux,” she began.

“But it was unique in that it was supposedly created by just one person over several years—a lifetime, according to what little is known about it.”

“Why is it called the Raveneau tapestry?” James asked.

Diana frowned. “There are always stories about such things, particularly about famous artwork—who was the woman in the Mona Lisa? Van Gogh's self-portrait? Did he really cut off an ear in a fit of madness? Most are just that—stories, because there is so little factual information that has survived.

“We do know that it was named for the woman who supposedly created it, Isabel Raveneau, a young noblewoman.”

Kris sat back in the chair. Not only did it have a name but it had been named for someone, like the Bayeaux Tapestry that had been created to celebrate an event—the conquest of Britain.

But what was important about an obscure, seven-hundred-year-old Medieval tapestry? And why had Cate been interested in it?