by A. M. Clarke
Chapter Twenty Eight
Saturday mornings for Mike, were a ritual of honing his sermon, making sure his vestments were clean and pressed, and preparing the church for its Sunday mass. Times had changed, not enough worshipers for Saturday evening service, no housekeeper to clean and dress the alter, which meant doing for himself. He polished his own chalices, replaced the candles and if lucky enough to receive flowers from his few generous parishioners, arranged them in his own haphazard way. These duties were normally soothing at the best of times, but today especially, they were a very welcome distraction from his personal demons and sleep deprived state of mind.
At 10am, Mike knelt before Gods alter, he prayed for insight into the unprecedented lapse in his celibacy, even if it was unwilling. He begged forgiveness and understanding from his Almighty God, and promised new dedication of his vows. A ringing phone disrupted Father Mike’s devotions, rousing him into the real world. He made it back to the house before it rang off. As Stephen pulled up outside the church, again, Mike was ready. ’Why didn’t you call me last night’ Mike asked a little put out.
‘I was tempted to, but it really was too late, and after the last couple of days, I reckoned you needed the time off.’
‘Dead bodies, even friends dead bodies, would have been preferable to my big seduction.’ Mike went on to explain what had happened and finished with a sign of the cross. He wiped sweat from his forehead and sighed with relief at telling his friend his latest drama. Stephen was stunned into silence for a few seconds, but soon came around to tell Mike that it sounded to him like a set up.
‘I’m not saying that your not desirable, or indeed every girls wanton dream, but let me ask you, has anything like this happened before?’
‘No, but it only takes one, doesn’t it?’
‘Now your egos talking, I never knew you had one Father Mike. Now you listen to me, something is off here and I think your Evelyn is up to no good. She has singled you out for a reason, and I would like to know why. Maybe she has something to do with all the craziness that’s been happening around here this last while. I don’t share in your paranoid belief of evil, but I have to admit since she came on to the island, people have died and in terrible ways. ’
‘Do you really believe Evelyn could be responsible for the wickedness here, I mean why, and what possible reason could she have?’
Stephen thought for a while, but his mind wasn’t capable of working out such a complicated thought on so little sleep.
The rain from last night ran like streams down either side of the road.
Chapter Twenty Nine
The wind had been unkind to the trees, and undressed them with no care or kindness. Their leaves gathered with the momentum of the water and rushed away on a final journey to clog the sewer drains. The surfaces drying under the still warm sun.
Stephen and Mike waited at the hotel for the police, but after a half hour decided to leave a message at reception and go to the house. Dr Bell was already there, and in a foul mood having had to wait.
‘Come along, I have patients to see you know.’ Stephen and Mike both apologised for the delay and Stephen led them into the TV room.
‘Jesus H Christ, sorry Father, but bloody hell. What got into the girl?’
‘I don’t know Doctor, there was no note that I could see, but I didn’t really stay too long.’ Stephen shuddered at the now grey features of Jim. The body was starting to decompose and the smell was bearable, but it wouldn’t be for long.
‘The other one is upstairs in the bath, you said?’ Not waiting for a reply the Doc went off on his own.
‘All right buddy, not pleasant is it?’
‘What’s going on here Stephen? Gladys was such a happy soul, not homicidal or suicidal, not someone who could do this.’ Mike didn’t require an answer, and didn’t wait for one. He followed Dr Bell up the stairs to the second scene, dumbfounded at the sight of Gladys’s drained and wrinkled remains.
‘I’ve called the undertaker to collect the bodies; we can’t leave them here any longer. For Gods sake their beginning to smell.’ Dr Bell announced as he descended the stairs. ‘Take some pictures to show the police if necessary, but we simply cant wait. Gladys, bless her, will dissolve into soup if we leave her any longer.’
‘Thanks Doc, like I needed any more disturbing images in my head. But I get your graphic point. Ill take the pictures while we wait for the hearses, you can get on if you want.’
‘Yes, boils to lance and snotty children to de-mucus, you stay and have all the fun here, but Stephen, get Father Mike out of here as soon as possible. I don’t think he’s handling this too well. Right, I’m off.’
Stephen watched with a mixture of mild amusement and a little nausea. He was holding it together with his customary cynical and blaze sense of rational behaviour. He called to Mike, anxious to get him out of there, Dr Bell had spooked him good. He was worried about Mike, and had a sudden and intense need to get him away from this latest terrible horror.
With all the atrocities happening on his doorstep, and in Mikes own parish, Stephen sensed Mikes weakness, the ungodly and unexpected things that kept occurring, and the arrival of a seductress intent on appealing to his unknown and until now unwitting sexuality, could lead to Mikes celibate surrender.
Mike was understandably gun shy and barely coherent when Stephen extracted himself from the house. He kept mumbling The Hail Mary,
Over and over, Stephen wasn’t sure, if it was Gladys and Jim that he was praying for, or if he was praying for the sanctity of his own soul. After the third Hail Mary, he slapped Mike, hard, not easy to do when you’re driving, but it worked. Mike stopped, and after a few silent moments came around to himself.
‘Sorry mate, don’t know what came over me. That last one was my undoing. I don’t know how much more ugliness I can take. Every day seems to bring more bloody awfulness.’
‘I know Mike, Gladys was a friend, and its unbearable to see her and her husband like that, but, its happened and we have to deal with it. Losing the plot isn’t going to make things any better. I am going to take you back to mine, and you can keep Chequers company while I go to the funeral home to take care of the paperwork. Someone needs to sign off on the identity of the bodies.’
‘Did you know Jim?’
‘Not very well, just to say hi to and pass the time of day with. He wasn’t what you would call overly friendly, but Gladys made up for that. She sure was a fire cracker.’ Stephen’s voice cracked with emotion, and drove on in quiet reflection.
He dropped Father Mike off at his house, to the great delight of a lonely Chequers, and drove back to town, to Fox’s funeral home.
With a large slug from the whiskey flask he kept in the glove box, Stephen went inside the last place anyone wants to be. The entrance was lovely, filled with sweet smelling fresh flowers, interspersed with almost life like plastic ones. Mr Fox, a caricature of a cartoon character, led him through to the treatment room. And, it was no spa treatment room. The smell assaulted his unwitting senses, burning the nose hairs on its way down to his throat. The burnt flesh smell never gets old, and it was in no danger of doing that, as it assailed all before it. He could taste the choking chemicals, and his eyes watered from the fumes. 'They should get danger money working here, he coughed to himself'. The room was cold, obviously, and a metal table dominated the sterile space. A smaller metal table on wheels was close by; it had an array of disturbing medical paraphernalia on it, with tubes and syringes adding to its macabreness.
. . . . .
Mr Fox was very kind and very graphic in his description of the procedure to extract bodily fluids, and disposal of, and then to introduce new embalming fluids in through the body’s orifices. If Stephen ever needed to induce vomit again, it wouldn’t be hard. Mr Fox proceeded to explain how they secured these orifices from leakage, this included, a stitched up anus, gluing eyes shut in case of skin shrinkage and inopportune lid movement. Stit
ching together lips to avoid mouth drop-page, and nasal passages plugged for obvious reasons, were grossly necessary, but mind bendingly disturbing.
Stephen knew the score, but didn’t really need to know the tune., Wow. Horror reels were playing in his head. He didn’t need to know any more. He needed to get the hell out of there, and fast. He thanked Mr Fox, signed the necessary paperwork and left Gladys and Jim in his grisly care.
Chapter Thirty
News of Gladys and Jim’s demise had reached the hotel staff, and between tears and disbelief, there was scandal-mongering and disrespectful rumours abounding. People they knew and supposedly liked ripped their characters to shreds as communal entertainment. In a single breath, they were described as a 'nice couple, that never had a cross word, but you never know what goes on behind net curtains.' 'Gladys was too friendly, while Jim was too quiet.' Those who hadn’t listened properly, or more likely didn’t want to hear the actual truth, claimed it was 'only a matter of time before poor Jim would do her in.'
Adam was in the foyer, taking it all in. He heard the good, the bad and the ugly. He also heard that an investigative team was coming that morning from the mainland. He would hang around there until they arrived, nowhere else to be.
Chapter Thirty One
Vera stood stony faced while they all climbed unaided onto the bus. No wheelchairs needed, no walking aids required, no handholding wanted, no help necessary. She watched, fully aware and fully awake, trying to comprehend the madness that had engulfed her world. How was this even possible, was the recurring thought that kept picking at her brain?
‘Good morning Vera’
‘Adam, I’m surprised to see you’
‘Well I wanted to thank you for a wonderful evening. Everything was so lovely, especially you.’
‘Thank you Adam, I had a great time too. You just missed the gang; they decided to go to the mainland for a day trip.’
‘But I didn’t realise they were all fit enough to make a journey like that.’ Vera looked at her shoes as she answered him, ‘They perked up after your visit, and were feeling very spry this morning. A few Dramamine and morphine patches, and they were good to go.’
‘That’s great, I’m sorry to miss them but very happy their off to have fun. So they are on their way to the ferry now, as we speak?’ Adam wanted to know.
‘Yes, they left just a few minutes before you arrived. Why?’
‘No reason Vera, how about a cup of coffee?’
Chapter Thirty Two
Inspector Rudder was bloody furious; he had been sequestered from his usual beat to baby sit a standard domestic drama. He reckoned, if these people couldn’t survive on an island then don’t bloody well live on one. Oh hell, he knew the local stations had been closed down, and he was somewhat considerate of that, but all in all, it wasn’t, and shouldn’t be, his problem. Living on an island was a real cosy deal if you had some real life security in the shape of a police station, but when that moved on, shouldn’t the rest follow. These islands were a strain on the mainland’s recourses, and they could barely afford them as it was. This for example was a silly mundane marital dispute, it happened all the time on the main land, and he didn’t see why it would be any different here. He had been lumbered with a wet behind the ears rookie. Seems a boat accident had happened a couple of days previous, and a little more information from the locals might be useful, or so he had been told. The rookie it seems was to be a diversion, gathering Intel from sleepy villagers, who couldn’t possibly have seen anything, while he investigated a Mr and Mrs Smith marital dispute. He was beeped in the early hours, told to get the first ferry, told it was a domestic, and told to deal with it. It wasn’t until he arrived at the ferry that he met his travel companion, Wallis. He appeared nice enough, if a little green. Truth be told, he was a bit peeved to have Wallis foisted on his case, even if it was beneath his pay grade. Since Ruder turned fifty-five, his caseload had been decidedly trivial, bordering on catatonic. If recent history were any indication, this would be no different to the usual marital melodrama.
Chapter Thirty Three
They decided to bring both cars, in case they needed to separate. It was unlikely that there would be a taxi on the island and Rudder did not intend to be at someone else’s beck and call. The ferry ride was a half hour of small talk and awkward silences. Rudder told Wallis to go on ahead and he would meet him in the village hotel. Checking his watch, and seeing it was only 10am, he decided there was time for a quick one in the harbour inn. It was during his second malt that fire engine sirens disturbed the muted voices of the few die hard drinkers. 'Probably a cat stuck up a tree' he thought cynically. A few minutes later, a very distraught looking man burst through the doors. The bar tender, recognising him shouted.
‘What’s up Lenny, you look bloody awful.’
‘There’s been a terrible accident, give me a brandy, a double mate.’
‘Sure thing Lenny, coming up.’ Lenny dropped onto the nearest stool, and gratefully sank the brandy in one gulp. The bar man gave him another generous shot before pushing for info.
‘Ya know the old folks home back up the hill, they were all going to the ferry in the community bus when a black Volvo ploughed head long into them. Only one chap in the car, well, out of it now, but the bus was crammed full of old dears. By the look of it, all dead. Bodies all over the road. Hit me again mate.’
Rudder ran out of the inn, jumped in his car and drove towards the village. Of course, he knew it was Wallis before he reached the scene. It was only a few minutes up the road, and when he arrived and flashed his badge, the fire chief confirmed what Lenny had correctly guessed. No survivors. They had put partitions up around the mangled vehicles, and blankets over the bodies, but Rudder could see Wallis dangling from the hood. The wristwatch Wallis had checked numerous times on the ferry crossing peeked from under the blanket. The fire chief also informed Rudder that a witness saw the bus speeding down the hill and the driver looked as if he had lost control, a possible brake failure. They had also called the undertakers, but they only had one vehicle. Rudder rang back to his station and broke the news of Sergeant Wallis’s death, he also asked for the coroner, a large coroners van and extra body bags to be sent on the next ferry. His boss came on before he had a chance to hang up, and had to lie about why Wallis was on his own. 'Anyone would think he wanted me in the car with Wallis' When he got off the phone the fire chief told him that he had arranged with a buddy to bring his transit and some plastic sheeting. Get the bodies off the road and to the funeral home until the coroner arrived. The lookey loos were having a field day and would end up causing another crash.
Chapter Thirty Four
Vera had also heard the sirens in the distance, obviously, she didn’t know the reason for them, but she had a bad feeling about it. Then the screaming started. She ran to the sound and found Helen at reception in a terrible state. Eventually through the gut wrenching sobs, Vera managed to extract the awful news that the fire chief had rang to tell them. All dead, and all would need to be formally identified. Later would do, at the funeral home. She was too stunned to speak and too stunned to move, and her brain was struggling to comprehend the news it had received. Adam had followed from the tearoom and heard the news.
‘I’m so sorry Vera, what a terrible thing to happen to all those lovely old dears.’
‘YOU, YOU did this.’ Vera turned on him and launched a surprising attack. ‘I don’t know how or even why, but I know you did this.’ Realisation had turned her face into a horror mask, and getting her mobility back, dashed to the nearest potted plant and vomited. When she raised her head from the soil, Adam was beside her.
‘You’re in shock Vera, and I understand you needing to lash out, but after a while you’ll realise how ludicrous you sound. Let me get you a brandy and --------’
‘Don’t bother with the fake charm and concern. Something
happened, in that moment when you spoke, something dropped away from my brain. Your evil and you came here to do evil. I’ve been too stupid and too flattered by your attentions to notice it, and that’s why you were giving me the full treatment, so you could get to the residents. Helen, ring the authorities and tell them there’s a murderer on the Island. ’
‘Alright, alright, I’m going, Ill leave you to your grief and hysteria’ and he left. Gathering her temper and her legs, Vera ran after him.
‘Adam wait, I have to know. Why? You made them better, and then you killed them. Why the hell would you do that?’
Adam turned around and looked about, no one close.
‘There’s no fun in killing sick people, and dying ones aren’t afraid enough. I like to give them back a reason to live and then take it away. That always makes it so much more satisfying when I wipe them out.’
‘That’s diabolical.’
‘Isn’t it though,’ and Adam smiled that breathtaking smile and walked away, leaving Vera with the dreaded task of phoning her residents family’s. She had made such calls before, but never on such a scale.
Chapter Thirty Five
I hope I never have to set foot in that place again. It really brings home your own mortality, Stephen thought as the images in his head made him cringe and shiver all over again. His phone ringing saved him from further skin discomfort. It was an Inspector Rudder over to investigate the “domestic incident”. Stephen gave directions to Gladys’s house and agreed to meet him there. That’s funny he thought, the man sounded like he was only over to check out a marital row and none too happy about it either. Still, at least this visit to the house would be bodiless, that in itself was a relief.