by mike Evans
Joey shook the memories from his head, there was no decapitation here, no this was something different and it seemed like it had a meaning to it. He lifted the sheets seeing there were no stains on them. He walked the ground looking around seeing no stains that weren’t from blood and was confident after looking for a few minutes that at least she had not been sexually molested. Dursky checked her eyes, each had a coin in them. He lifted her eyelids with his pen just to make sure that indeed she did have her eyeballs in place. He lifted her chin, looking at her head, seeing the cross drawn upside down on it. He knew that probably wasn’t a good thing and that to date there’d never really been a demon-loving cult who was devout enough to do anything in the devil’s name. He took a few steps back, pulling out a Polaroid camera and snapping off a few shots before the real photographers got here and messed up the scene.
Dursky looked at her trying to figure out why he’d done what he had. She had nothing on but a white sheet that had been placed neatly to cover her privates. A nail through each of her hands and feet were keeping her in place replicating Jesus’ crucifixion to the letter. He waved the picture until it came to be and slid it in his pocket. Dursky looked through the entire room, dusting for prints seeing nothing at all. He went into the bathroom to see if any type of evidence might have been left in there but saw nothing. Dursky took a few breaths, trying to get his head around what was happening.
He punched the wall already frustrated knowing the priest gimmick wouldn’t pan out. People pretended to be someone else every day of their lives out in Los Angeles. No one was doing what they wanted to for a living, they were strictly working toward the career that they wanted to truly do. The waitress or barista that wanted to be an actor, the cook who was a screenplay writer, the surf pro shop guy who was just waiting to become a pro surfer. It didn’t matter where you went if the person wasn’t wearing stripes or carrying a badge they most likely weren’t doing what they wanted to. He didn’t want anything else for himself but to catch the bad guy and when he went to sleep be able to close his eyes and not see all the death and destruction that was waiting for him every so often.
He let out a deep breath on the mirror, seeing the outline. Dursky started to breath hot air as fast as he could in the corner. The first thing he saw were upside down crosses. When he continued, he started to see letters on the mirror. The first row was on the bottom was “me”, he went up higher seeing “stop” and he had to stand on the toilet to make his breath get that far where the word “must” was coming up in the fogged over glass. He got off the toilet seat thinking about it and wasn’t sure it would be much help. “Must stop me” but what the hell did that mean he thought. There were no clues to what he’d be doing next, where he was going, or why he killed a maid in a crappy hotel.
He walked back out front to the lobby, Mr. Kirby was resting on his stool looking like he was going to be sick. “Detective Dursky is it?”
Dursky nodded, walking over, shaking hands and handed him a business card. “Do you know what time that room, checked out?”
Kirby opened his mouth, but Dursky saw the logbook on the counter and spun it around. He ran his finger down until he saw the Father Smith written neatly, as was the signature, probably because it wasn’t practiced often enough to be used to it and to write it sloppily like any other average American did. Dursky checked his watch, seeing it’d only been a few hours and unless he was flying would more than likely still be in the city now. Dursky looked around the lobby and two black cameras stood out as plain as day to be seen. Dursky pointed to the cameras. “You going to make my job easier and tell me those cameras work?”
Mr. Kirby nodded his head, “Damn right they do, those are the smallest VHS recording cameras money can buy, they are barely a foot long. You can’t get no better when it comes to security, we care about our customers…and our employees, don’t forget about that, we need them, we need all of them nice and safe. You want to see the footage, Detective Dursky?”
“No, I was just making sure that they worked for your sake, Mr. Kirby.”
Mr. Kirby looked at them and then back at Dursky slowly. He couldn’t help himself and asked slowly and cautiously. “You just kidding about that, aren’t you, detective?”
Dursky took a steadying breath, trying to remain calm. He gritted his teeth, unsure if he could refrain from reaching around and saving the world from this waste of space by strangling him with his bare hands. “Yes, Mr. Kirby, that would be just fantastic if you can set me up somewhere with a place to watch it.”
“I can’t leave you alone in the back room with the safe, it is against company policy.”
“I’m just looking for the guy’s face, I don’t care, come on.”
Mr. Kirby slid in the tape hitting rewind and smiled, pointing back to it, “Don’t even need to press play once it is done it starts on its own. A real miracle of modern day ingenuity, detective.”
Dursky, more of a reader was unimpressed and shrugged, waiting for the tape to play. He leaned forward on his knees slapping the television’s side. “Piece of crap, what’s wrong with the screen?”
“This is a top of the line Zenith television I’ll have you know. It doesn’t get any better than that,”
“What the hell is wrong with the screen, what is going on?”
Mr. Kirby leaned in pausing the tape multiple times and the two of them squinted together, “Well what in the Sam hill is wrong with this damn thing? I check this every morning, twice if the drawer is short any money. You can’t find good help, especially them that don’t speeko no Ingles if you know what I mean?’
Dursky did know, but after five years in the army, right out of high school, he had little concern for the color of the people around him. He knew damn well a coward could come in any color including white, and so could a hero. Dursky got close when he turned it around seeing the fine dress of the man. “You have any churches around here by chance? I wonder if he was on his way to a church, or if that is just his disguise to blend in, or to be ignored. I can’t imagine how many people don’t want to speak to a priest out of fear that they think he will give him a tongue lashing for not going to church on a regular basis. I know I’ve missed more than one service lately.”
“There’s a church about five miles from here. It is one of the larger ones in the city.”
Chapter 17
St. Mary’s Cathedral, Los Angeles
Nathaniel pulled around to the back of the church. He let go of the steering wheel. His hands were white from squeezing it tight enough to cut off circulation. He hadn’t even realized he’d been doing so until now. The blood began to pour back into his hands and felt like someone was stabbing him with needles. He had cried the entire way back. He knew how close they were, they’d had to rely on one another for years knowing if they wanted to see the next day’s sun they had to stick together and take care of each other. The best thing he could compare it to was someone cutting off his arm. The idea that he would be forced to either be paired up with a new priest…one which he did not know…one that he could not trust right away made him feel even worse. He had been going through each step of their day since they entered the room. They had done everything right, but he knew as well that there was never a guaranteed path he should take each time going in. The demons he felt were close, that when they came to Earth they came here with all the knowledge of the demons before them. They always seemed like they knew something new each time.
Father Edwards was waiting patiently in the parking lot on a bench tapping out what was left of his tobacco from a pipe before making it disappear into a carrying case. He used his cane for the walk to the car. Nathaniel had not seen him sitting there, and he was a hard man to miss. When he saw the head of the church heading over he realized he needed to get up there. If he walked too far he was going to make himself have a heart attack.
Nathaniel got out of the car holding up a hand for him to stop. “Wait there, Father Edwards, you are just going to need to walk th
at much further back.”
Father Edwards nodded, thankful the young priest was so considerate toward others. “I know what happened, I got a call from the detectives on duty. They wanted to confirm that the two of you had been sent on a church case. Once in a while we get a skeptical officer who is not a big believer. I am fine with people being skeptical, I think it strickens them of some of their power.”
“Really?”
“Nah, it’s a pain in my butt every time we lose someone and have to go through all this. How are you? I know how close the two of you were. You’ve been at it for almost your entire careers.”
“I'm not sure, I won’t lie, I feel like someone cut open my chest and ripped out my heart. I don’t know if I'm strong enough to do this job by myself?”
“You’ve never had to. Either the church will assign a new priest to you or they will leave you on your own.”
“But what if I can’t do it, Father Edwards? I’ve never had to fight these things on my own, and they are more evil than ever now.”
“I don’t disagree about that, the stories the two of you have been relaying have been horrid and I do not have any jealously for your mission in life.”
“What about me being on my own, though?”
“It is simple, if God feels that you are capable of doing it on your own then you will. He knows and sees all, he had plans for Carter if he took him. He has a plan, one for all of us.”
Nathaniel wiped at his eyes with his shirt sleeve. “Just when I thought I didn’t have any other tears to shed.”
“Never be embarrassed of them son, we all have our days. Yours is just particularly difficult today, and each day going forward you are going to have new challenges, new issues, but you will always have the church standing behind you with a hand on your shoulder.”
Nathaniel, not usually one for showing emotion wrapped his arms around Father Edwards. A new wave of feelings washed over him. “I…I don’t know what to do, there’s so many of them out there.”
Father Edwards knew there wasn’t a good answer. There were a lot of them and they would never stop, they’d never quit trying to take Earth until they had taken it and heaven. He patted him on the back hushing him. “You still have about an hour until mass starts. I think you might sit in; it might make you feel better. What have you to say my boy?”
He tried to let go of Father Edwards, but he held onto him for a few more seconds. Father Nathaniel nodded his head. “Yeah…I’ll be there, thank you for everything, I really appreciate it.”
“It is us that appreciate you, and the work you and Father Carter did. You do things that go above and beyond the call of priests. There’s a select few and the weight upon those chosen’s shoulders is large…if there’s ever any need to talk just say something, please at any time. We will help you through this and push forward. Heavenly Father, allow your son Jesus to come now with the Holy Spirit, the Blessed Virgin Mary, the holy angels and the saints protect us from all harm and to keep all evil spirits from taking revenge on us in any way.”
“Father, I thought we were going to go to mass for prayers.”
“Not that the others can’t use an extra prayer, but you can use all the help you can get. You go get cleaned up, wash the blood from your hands, and join us in the chapel.”
Father Nathaniel patted him on the shoulder and headed inside, disappearing into his room.
Father Edwards was making his rounds through the church, he had other priests to do such things, but as he had been told many years ago, if you don’t check on things yourself, you can’t complain when they aren’t done as you wanted. He checked that the coffee and cookies for after the service were ready and out. Sister Harriet had a fresh cup and a chocolate chip…Father Edwards’ favorite kind setting out, knowing she’d see him. He used his cane to take the pressure off his old knees, which made the snack that much more difficult to eat. He waved at the young volunteers who were standing ready to help…which he knew were most likely volunteered by their mothers, thinking it would be good for them. They had the day’s mass on their handouts for the attendees.
The altar boys were walking toward the back of the church. Father Edwards looked at his watch shaking his head in disappointment. He hollered to the two boys. “You boys don’t waste any time getting ready, all right? We don’t have time for you to be late. You make sure that you bring up the supplies for communion. Don’t take any drinks of the wine either, I’ll know.”
The two boys looked at each other both knowing he was full of it, but the fear of God watching them sin was enough for the two of them to nod politely. They walked into the rear of the chapel to the changing rooms. The cart was already set up with the wine that would be distributed and the bread chips had been put in the basket. A man was putting the trash away from set up. When he turned around the two boys did not recognize him. The older of the two said, “Hello, Father, are you new here?”
Jack smiled proudly, “No, I’ve been here for a very long time. I have been away travelling to different churches for the last few years. How long have the two of you been here as altar boys?”
“We’ve been here a few years, but I’ve been coming to the church for all our lives. I'm sorry and please…please don’t take it wrong, but I can’t remember you for anything. You say you’ve been travelling but you used to be here?”
Jack never lost his beat when talking. “Well, I had a beard back then, and all the time I’ve spent in the north has left me wearing hats more often so my hair stopped bleaching from the sun and made it go dark. I just thank the lord that I’ve still got hair to worry about. I just thought that I’d come back and surprise the other priests and help you two boys out with communion by getting it ready. It has been too long since I have been home.”
The boy nodded and the younger of the two leaned over and said, “Ben, I don’t think this guy is supposed to be here.”
He said it louder than he meant to and Jack had given them his undivided attention. The two watched as he walked forward. He was smiling, but it wasn’t one either of them liked. He reached between the two of them locking the door and pulling out the old skeleton key that was in it.
Father Edwards was feeling the day. He walked down the hallway that seemed to get longer each year. He could remember practically running up and down the halls trying to take care of as many things as he could in his youth. He didn’t want to give the altar boys too hard of a time because it seemed like only yesterday that he was one of them taking a short drink of the holy wine and worrying that God was going to strike him down, and then tell his parents who would surely put him in a less than desirable position.
He listened outside of Father Nathaniel’s room for a few seconds. He could not hear any sobbing. He knocked gently opening the door, unsurprised that it was not locked. The priests typically did not bother one another when in their rooms and were usually in there to pray privately or sleep, else they weren’t in there at all. “Father Nathaniel, are you decent?”
Nathaniel was sitting in front of a small, slim mirror adjusting his collar. “I was just finishing getting my suit on. I definitely feel better after a shower and some clean clothes. I said a few prayers for Carter. I hope they take good care of him in heaven…he went too soon and-”
Father Edwards knew he was only going to make himself feel pain again. “Why don’t we get going, Father Nathaniel. I can’t very well tell the altar boys they need to be early to get ready for church and then not be on time myself, can I?”
“Probably not with a straight face, Father Edwards. I'm all set, can I walk down there with you?”
He nodded and the two made their way down. A priest came around the corner colliding into the two of them. He mumbled his apologies never stopping, but making sure that Father Edwards had not fallen down. Nathaniel was so busy making sure that Father Edwards was okay that by the time he looked to the man who had so rudely ran into them saw that he was gone. “You all right, Father?”
“Yes, thank
you, just knocked the wind out of me…unfortunately that doesn’t take near the effort that it used to,” he said smiling uneasily while patting a very plump belly.