by Marian Phair
“Yes, I’ll be there at some point Father, but I may be a little late. It’s a couple of hours until party time,” he said looking at his wrist watch. “Why don’t you get yourself some rest Patrick. Scott told me everything is in readiness for the party, so you have nothing else to do.”
“Yes I could do that. I’ll see you both later.” Father Patrick stretched out on the couch and resting his head against a cushion, he closed his eyes. They left him to sleep.
Scott walked with the doctor to the Ford Focus parked on the gravel driveway next to Myrtle. As they walked, he voiced his concern. “Patrick has been acting strangly these past few days doc, what’s wrong with him?”
“I’m afraid, Patrick has DID. Disassociate amnesia, Scott. I can’t discuss his case with you, that would be unethical, but I will tell you this much, when Father Patrick came to see me first, he was having memory gaps. These gaps in the memory involve the inability to recall personal information. The cause is usually of a traumatic or stressful nature. Sufferers of this condition, are unable to remember personal information. There’s |a lack of self knowledge. Eventually, Father Patrick may not even remember his own name. God help him,” he said as he got into his car and drove away.
CHAPTER 49
At twenty minutes to seven that evening, Scott knocked on Father Patrick’s bedroom door, and waiting patiently for him to come to the door, after a few minutes he knocked again. This time, the priest’s voice called out, “Come in.”
“Forgive the intrusion, Patrick, I just wanted to check that you were okay, and to let you know everything is ready for the party, the food is laid out and guests are gathering in your study.”
“Party?” For one awkward moment the priest looked slightly puzzled. Scott, remembering what the doctor had revealed, started to get concerned for his friend’s health. He breathed a huge sigh of relief when Father Patrick said,
“Oh, you mean Ruth’s birthday surprise party.”
“I see you have changed your clothes again, Patrick, didn’t you like what I picked out for you to wear?” Father Patrick was now dressed in light grey flannels and a pale pink shirt, and for once he wasn’t wearing his dog collar, instead, he wore a grey tie.”
“You look quite the ladies man Patrick,” Scott told him.
“I’m not in my dotage yet you know,” the priest told him. “I can still pick out the clothes I choose to wear from my wardrobe. Anyway, the clothes I was wearing before were soiled, so of course I changed.”
Scott thought the priest was confusing the soiled suit he had been wearing earlier when Scott found him in the church, with the clothes they had helped dressed him in. So he decided not to say anything more about it.
“I knocked on Ruth’s door, she isn’t in her room, and she doesn’t appear to be downstairs. Any idea when she might have gone, Patrick?” Scott asked.
“I couldn’t even hazard a guess, I’m afraid, until half an hour ago I was fast asleep. Well, I’m ready now, so if you like, we can go and look for her together.”
They made their way down the stairs checking the rooms as they went. They went from room to room, but there was no sign of Ruth anywhere. The guests were all ready waiting in the study. On hearing footsteps approach they switched out the light.
When the door opened, and Father Patrick switched on the light, they all yelled out, ‘surprise!’ Their voices trailing off when they saw Ruth wasn’t with the two men standing in the doorway.
“Where on earth can she be?” Father Patrick asked, his voice showing his annoyance. He looked around at the sea of faces that had worked so hard to make Ruth’s birthday special, all their carefully laid plans had come to this; their guest of honour was missing.
“You may as well pour yourselves a drink,” he told them. “Scott and I will go and try to find her, though just where she could have gone is beyond me since all of her closest friends are already here. Except for Jake Fletcher, and Sally, who is still with the Taylor’s and will be dropped off here later.”
“Dr Harrison said he may be late as he has evening surgery,” Scott told them.
“Did I hear someone mention my name?” the doctor said as he joined them.
“Good evening everyone, nice to see you all gathered here instead of crowding out my surgery,” he said in good humour. “Well, where is the birthday girl? I want to give her a birthday kiss and her gift.”
“That’s what we’d like to know, we can’t seem to find her anywhere.” Scott told him.
“Patrick and I are going to look for her, if you’d like to join the others in a drink while you wait, we shouldn’t be too long.”
The two men went outside and stood on the doorstep trying to decide where to go first. “I suppose the sensible thing to do would be to phone around and try to locate her, instead of going off half-cocked,” Father Patrick said.
“Half-cocked, Patrick, you English and your weird sayings,” Scott mimicked.
He glanced around at the surrounding, shrubbery illuminated by the light from the porch, into the darkness beyond. Something caught his attention as he stared out into the darkness. There it was again, a weird flickering light coming from one of the church windows.
“Jeez, Patrick.” Scott grabbed the priest’s arm. “See that light, what the heck is that?”
Father Patrick’s eyes followed Scott’s pointing finger, and saw the flickering light.
“Holy mother of God, someone’s set fire to the church,” he cried, breaking into a run.
He ran to the side door, and pulling it open, ran inside and then skidded to a halt, recoiling from the horror of the scene before him. The priest had stopped so suddenly that Scott, hot on his heels, slammed into him, and the two men struggled to stay upright. The priest’s face had turned white with fright where he stood transfixed, and trembling. Scott followed his gaze.
The light was coming from a row of candles placed at the base of the altar, lending an eerie light. The cross had been removed and discarded on the floor to make room for the body which lay along its length. The body was that of a female, and she lay posed like a mannequin in some horror film. Her scarlet velvet gown hung in tatters about her body, which was covered from head to toe in bloody bite and scratch marks, her panties had been ripped apart, exposing her nakedness. Her throat had been cut, and blood still oozed from the gaping wound, leaving a crimson trail through her long blonde hair, and the alter cloth. It ran down her arm and onto the single white rose she held in her hand, turning its petals crimson, her life-blood pooling on the alter steps.
“Oh, sweet Jesus, NO!” Scott cried out in anguish. The priest looked as if he was about to pass out. Scott dashed to where Ruth lay. Tears were streaming down his face as he lifted her head, and tried to stop the flow of blood, her eyes staring upwards, unblinking. Scott felt a slight flutter under his bloody fingers, and his heart almost stopped beating. He held his breath as he placed two fingers against Ruth’s neck, and he thought he detected a pulse. There was a pulse, weak and slow under the pads of his fingers. The knife hadn’t severed her carotid arteries, she wasn’t dead.
“For God’s sake, Patrick, get help, she’s still alive!”
The priest stood trembling as if his mind couldn’t cope with the shock, until Scott’s voice shouting out for help, broke through to him.
“Patrick, for heavens sake man, help us. Do you want her to die?” he pleaded.
“Reach into my back pocket and get my mobile phone, call an ambulance.”
The priest approached on trembling legs. He removed the phone all fingers and thumbs as he tried to control his shaking hands. Tears filled his eyes as he said to Scott repeatedly, “What do I do? What do I do? I don’t know how to work this thing.”
“Put in the number, Patrick, then press the green phone button, and for God’s sake hurry man!”
Father Patrick stood with tears streaming down his face as he dialled 999.
“It’s okay, honey. I’m here now, and so is Father Patrick, you�
�re gonna be alright, we’ll take care of you until help arrives. You just hang in there sweetheart, don‘t you die on me now.” Ruth’s blood oozed through his fingers, and Scott looked across at the priest in dispair.
“Help me get her off this darn alter, Patrick, then go and get Dr Harrison.”
Scott tried his best to cover Ruth’s naked body with the remnants of her gown, as he sat on the concrete floor of the church covered in her blood, cradling her dying body in his arms. He kept talking to her as he did his best to slow the flow of blood.
He told her how much he loved her. A single tear slid down Ruth’s cheek as he kissed it. He knew that she was aware that she was dying, and there was nothing either of them could do about it.
Father Patrick returned with the doctor, but there was little he could do. The priest began to pray for Ruth’s survival, and they heard the wailing of a siren as the ambulance raced through the streets.
“The Taylor’s have been informed, and will take care of Sally,” Matthew told Scott. “The police are on their way, and we have been told that nothing is to be removed from here until they say so, as this is a crime scene now.”
Scott’s next words shocked the priest from his prayers.
“Fuck the crime scene! Ruth and any evidence on her will come to the hospital with us. DCI Fletcher will understand, he knows the prioty is to save the life first. Where the hell is that God darn ambulance?”
Paramedic’s rushed in as he spoke; they covered Ruth with a blanket and an intravenous cannula was inserted into a vein. A paramedic held up the bag of plasma attached to the cannula, while two others lifted Ruth onto a stretcher. Within minutes of their arrival they were speeding on their way, heading for St. Judes, with an anxious Scott, covered in Ruth’s blood, sitting beside her in the back.
After the ambulance left, Father Patrick moved away to secure the doors to the church, until the scenes of crime team arrived. On a pew at the back forgotten by it’s owner, was a tatty little rag doll, he picked it up, hugging it to his chest. He thought of poor Ruth, lying on the altar, her mutilated body broken and discarded, just like the little rag doll.
He fell to his knees, still hugging Sally’s rag doll, and started to pray for Ruth survival. He prayed for Sally, and for all those who had lost their loved ones, and were caught up in the madness of these senseless killings. With tears streaming down his face, the priest prayed, like he had never prayed before!
CHAPTER 50
Sally was told that her mother had been taken poorly and that she was in hospital.
“Your mom doesn’t want you to worry about her, she’s being cared for, and in a few days you’ll be able to go and see her,” Scott told her. Then realising that he had told Sally that she would ‘see’ her mother soon, the cruel fact sunk in, maybe it was a good thing that Sally was blind, she wouldn’t know that Ruth’s beautiful blonde hair had turned white with shock. She wouldn’t see the fear in her mother’s eyes when any male came near her, and how she flinched when she was touched. Ruth’s throat still wore a dressing over the stitches, the bite marks and bruises were beginning to fade.
The female crime scene officer, had conducted her investigation of Ruth’s ravaged body, whilst Ruth was under sedation. There was vaginal and anal tearing, her pubic hair had been combed for DNA, her whole body photographed and scanned, and swabs were taken, but so far nothing had been found that would identify the perpetrator. Ruth was suffering from temporal paralysis brought on by shock.
She was just another victim of the White Rose killer.
Scott sat on a bar stool next to Jake Fletcher as they shared a beer together, and discussed Ruth’s case. Each man had his own reasons for wanting this killer caught.
“What are your thoughts on this killer, Scott? Why has he switched his modus operandi, what’s your gut telling you?” Jake asked, as he sipped his beer.
Scott rolled his silver Lincoln dollar through the fingers of his left hand as he spoke, his eyes downcast, while he pondered the question.
“Only for the rose, I would have said that you were probably looking for someone recently released from a psychiatric unit. I think Ruth’s attacker lives nearby, Jake.
He would probably be too disordered to drive to the church, commit such a horrendous crime and get himself back home. I think her attacker walked to and from the crime scene. I think our White Rose killer, is a single guy, more than likely living alone in a location within a mile from here.”
Scott downed his pint and wiped the froth from his mouth on the back of his hand.
“It’s not profiler’s who catch committed or Schizophrenic killers, Jake, as I believe I told you before, the police officer’s, the guy’s on the beat do. A profile is an investigating tool, one that in this instance unfortunately has had little effect in the search for this dangerous killer.”
“Well I guess we’re going to have to put your theory into practise and see who we flush out that fits that profile, we’ve nothing else to go on yet. Forensics haven’t come up with anything on him. You were right about there being another body in the woods, by the way. I meant to tell you, but with all that’s gone on these last few days, it slipped my mind. They have identified the body that was dug up; it’s our missing girl, Lorraine Cooke. They found Terry Jones’ DNA at the scene, and a few dyed red hairs. They are trying to find the woman involved. Dan Carter found track marks on the dead girl’s arms, but her family haven’t been told she was a junkie, we are trying to spare them as much suffering as we can,” Jake told him. Signalling to the barman, he gave him the glasses and asked for the same again.
“I’m gonna take Sally to the hospital tomorrow to visit her mom. Thank God she has finished with those blood transfusions, it broke my heart seeing her with those tubes sicking in her veins,” Scott told him, as he finished his pint. “If y’all don’t mind, I’m gonna head back to Molly’s and get me some shut eye, I’m plumb wore out.”
Scott got off his bar stool, and patted Jake on the back. “Catch you later, my friend.”
When Scott left, Jake Fletcher remained seated at the bar, he sat with head bowed lost in thought. He reached for his wallet and removed two twenty pound notes, and threw them down on the counter. Then he called the bartender over.
“Do you know that bloke that just left, that American? He’s going to marry my old sweetheart.” Jake shoved the notes towards him. “Bring me a whiskey and a beer chaser, and keep them coming until that’s gone.” He pointed to the money.
Sally had kept her secret well, no one knew her sight had returned, and she was determined to keep it a secret until her mother came home from the hospital.
The following day, Sally went with Scott to the hospital to visit her mother.
Father Patrick was already there when they arrived, he was talking to a nurse in the reception area and greeted them as they approached. They walked together down the corridor to the open wards. As they passed, Sally peeked at the patients lying in their hospital beds, some attached to monitors, others with tubes in their noses. She suddenly got scared, recalling how both she and her mother had been taken into adjacent wards when Liam had been murdered, at her terror at being lost in the cornfield. They had reached Ruth’s ward, and Sally hung back.
“I don’t want to go in there, I want to go home,” she told Scott.
“Don’t you want see your mom, honey? I know she wants to see you,” Scott told her.
“I want to go home, I don’t like it here, it’s scary.” Sally hung back.
“I think I know what’s wrong, Scott, this hospital holds bad memories for Sally. You go and visit Ruth, I’ll take Sally home with me. Give her my best wishes.”
“Are you sure, Patrick?”
“It’s for the best, no sense in upsetting the child.” Father Patrick took Sally’s hand.
“Come, Sally, we’ll let Uncle Scott visit your mummy, and you and I will go back to the rectory and have a cup of cocoa, then we can take Mali for his walk.”
From her bed beside the window Ruth caught a glimpse of Father Patrick and Sally, hand in hand as they passed by heading for the car park. When Scott arrived at Ruth’s bedside, he could see how agitated she was, her eyes flicked from him to the window and back again, and he could sense her fear.
“Are you trying to tell me something, honey?” he asked, as he kissed her cheek, she signalled with her eyes, trying to get him to look out of the window.
Scott finally realised what Ruth wanted him to do, he looked out of the window, but he could see nothing out of the ordinary.
Ruth was coming home in two days time. Father Patrick and Scott were giving her a welcome home party, just for the four of them. The priest had gone into Buxton, and for the first time in her life, Sally had been left on her own. She could wander freely without having to pretend she was still blind, and took advantage of this new found freedom to explore the rectory. Poking into cupboards and closets, she was able to see things using her sight instead of her fingers, and imagination. In the study, she checked out the books on Father Patrick’s shelf. She examined the statue of the monkey, and ran her hands over the Fleu-de-lis carved into the middle shelf.
Her fingers idly traced the outline, and as she pressed against it she heard a loud click and the bookcase swung noiselessly back, revealing an opening. Mali’s ears pricked up when he heard her gasp of surprise. Ordering him to stay, Sally stepped through the opening and found herself in a small passageway. Filled with curiosity she followed it to the end.
When Father Patrick returned, he found Sally and Mali in the kitchen, the little dog was wolfing down the food in his bowl, and Sally was happily munching on her sandwich.
“So, I see you didn’t wait for me after all, you managed all on your own Sally, that makes me proud, I have taught you well. Your blindness is not the handicap it used to be. You’re getting more and more independant and that’s a good thing.”