Murder in the Parish
Page 4
She was certain she had seen that jewelry box in her aunt’s room not that long ago. Sarah didn’t want to confront her aunt, as grownups could be unpredictable and she didn’t want to aggravate her aunt unnecessarily. Instead, she went up to her aunt’s room and phoned Father Douglas, asking to meet him before school the next day.
Sensing concern in the young girl’s voice, Father Douglas grabbed a jar of Felicity’s cookies and headed toward Melissa’s house, not wanting to wait until the morning. By the time he made his way to her house, the sun had already set, and Melissa was in bed. Sarah just happened to have been looking out the window when she saw Father Douglas pull up outside their home. She ran to greet him with a hug, and did a silent dance when he handed her the jar of cookies. She invited him in and offered him tea like a good hostess.
Noticing Melissa’s laptop open on the kitchen table as they sat for tea, Father Douglas asked Sarah about it in passing conversation.
“She’s an IT professional in Hastings Point,” Sarah answered, shrugging her shoulders like she was bored with the topic already. “It isn’t really enough to make ends meet sometimes, but I think that’s because she’s taking care of me so much.”
The Father texted Tom Sullivan to run a background check on Melissa Samson, before going to bed that night.
CHAPTER 6
Father Douglas was happy to see Sarah the next morning, glad that nothing had happened to her overnight, as he feared for her safety instead of sleeping most of the night. When he asked Sarah what else she wanted to tell him, she hesitated, mentioning that her aunt might be upset with her if she said anything.
“I’ll find out eventually,” he smiled. “You do what you think is right, but it might help us track them down faster.”
“You’re right, Father. Well…” The girl looked around to make sure no one was within earshot. “I know I saw the box in my aunt’s room about a month ago. I KNOW I did, and I didn’t see it again until I found it while exploring. I didn’t think anything else about it until we saw it that day, you know?”
Instead of having Sarah walk to school as she normally did, Father Douglas drove her to the place where should always met her friends. He told the older boy that was standing in the group that Sarah wouldn’t be going to school today, and that he would have her aunt send a note later in the day.
Hopping back into the Alvis, certain that the boy would deliver the message to the attendance aide at the school, Father Douglas drove Sarah to the Lismore police station. Not an hour later, after having waved good morning and disappearing behind a pile of papers on his desk, Detective Sullivan rounded the corner to the waiting room where Father Douglas and Sarah were sitting cross-legged on the floor playing checkers with a collection of office supplies.
“The fingerprints from your ransacked office, Father? Guess who they belonged to?” Tom tossed a report onto the Father’s lap and chuckled.
Father Douglas turned to Sarah with wide eyes. “Your Aunt Melissa.”
“And there was another set as well, those of a known jewel thief.” Tom waved a second report in his hand. “We found his print on the shovel that was used on poor Tim Mansfield’s head. He probably got out of the deal with a piece of that jewelry as payment, I’d say.”
Tom knelt down beside Sarah, who was staring at him wide-eyed.
“Now I’m real….really sorry, lass. They’re bringing your aunt in now, she should be here any moment. She’s going to be wearing handcuffs. Do you need a minute? Do you want to go somewhere else? Will it upset you?”
Tom couldn’t have felt sorrier for the little girl. She’d lost her parents tragically only a few years earlier, and now this. He wiped away her tears as best as he could with his bare hand before rising to grab a box of tissues from a nearby metal desk.
Heartbroken, Father Douglas began to panic for the girl. Without a family member to care for her, she would be tossed into the system and be swapped from foster home to foster home. Detective Sullivan saw his friend’s panic, and turned to him, placing his hand on the man’s arm.
“Father, I’ve arranged for you and Felicity to have temporary custody of Sarah until we sort things out here at the station, okay? Forty eight hours. Can you handle that?”
Father Douglas nodded, thankful but still sad.
****
The next morning, when Father Douglas meets Felicity and Sarah in the kitchen, there are two older people sitting with them and laughing. The resemblance is undeniable. The girl was the spitting image of her grandmother Walters. Apparently, they had been contacted last night as next of kin and took an overnight flight from Sydney to arrive in the wee hours of the morning. There was hugging, and kissing, and talking, and explaining, and catching up. There were many tears, and Father Douglas shed his fair share of them.
Glancing toward the ceiling and moving his hand across his chest, he closed his eyes and silently thanked his Father for being in charge.
MURDER
AND THE
MONK
CHAPTER 1
It was an abnormally bright morning in Byron Bay, and Father Douglas couldn’t be happier about it. Of all the times of day, he thought morning had to be the best. Byron Bay was simply the best place in the world to live, and Father Douglas told everyone he knew just that. He mostly kept to his own hometown, because where else would he need to go, really? Everything he needed was right here within arm’s reach or an afternoon’s drive. At this moment, in fact, he was going to have some tea with his apprentice. Nothing fancy, just tea with the accidental monk on a regular, boring day. Once in a while, the two of them would venture over to Pottsville and try the local eatery shops there, but the Father and his friends were quite happy to keep near the parish most days.
The appointment for tea this morning was with Samuel White, a young monk who wanted to dedicate his life to working in Thailand. Father Douglas had known Samuel from the time he was young. The boy was born and raised in Hastings Point, which was a small coastal village in northern New South Wales, Australia and Father Douglas had always liked him. He was especially excited when the boy had decided to choose Father Douglas’s parish, even though it was not a large facility, or anything of significance, in the grand scheme of things. The parish of Hastings Point was of great importance to him. He knew everyone in the village by name and had baptized many of them himself. He loved the countryside, the beach, and even the wintry days because he felt that he lived in the most beautiful place on earth. The coast was unspoiled and still void of the insidious tourist popularity that infected most of the resort towns in northern New South Wales.
Samuel White, the sweet soul that he was, was an accident waiting to happen. He was born in a taxi – by accident. He became a priest because he fell off of his bike in front of Father Douglas’s church – by accident. He vowed to become a monk because he bumped into a white monk while visiting Melbourne three summers ago – by accident. Pere Samuel was now affectionately known as the “accidental monk”. It seemed that everything he did, every decision he made for his life, was all by accident. Unfortunately, today was no different. Samuel was waiting for Father Douglas at the corner café that faced the beach near the bus terminal on Byron Bay. He looked as humble and unassuming as usual, but seemed as though he was a little on edge. It also looked as though he was searching for someone, but Father Douglas took that to mean that he was looking for his tea date. A plain looking woman walked up to him, fell faint and collapsed at Samuel’s feet next to the terrace.
As Father Douglas parked his car, the police were already drawing near to the scene and turning off their sirens due to the close proximity to the crowds. If he walked quickly, he could probably beat them there, even though there were already gawking thrill seekers beginning to gather around. Father Douglas pushed his way through the small crowd, smiling at each person and waiting for them to realize that he was a man of the faith and should be allowed through. Several Excuse ME’s later, Father Douglas was at Samuel’s side.
“I—I don’t know,” the young man stuttered. “She just fell, I don’t think she’s breathing, sir.”
Father Douglas leaned down closely to the woman’s body, and quickly discovered that she wasn’t breathing…at all. With wide eyes, he stood up and then placed himself on the bench next to his friend. Samuel looked worried, as would anyone who just had someone die at their feet. Father Douglas looked down at the woman once more, careful not to touch her or move her—he knew the drill. One should never interfere with a crime scene - that much he had learned long ago from his friend in Lismore Detective Inspector Tom Sullivan. The woman, whoever she was, was indeed dead. But why? Surely Samuel wouldn’t have anything to do with it, though the boy did look a bit more frazzled than usual. His palms were sweating and he kept brushing his forehead with the back of his hand in a nervous sort of tick.
“I knelt down to help her, Father. Did you see that? Were you close enough to see that I tried to help her??” Samuel’s eyes darted back and forth.
“I did see that, yes. You did what you could, and that’s all anyone can ask of you. Don’t you worry about it, everything will be just fine and I’m sure we’ll be able to leave once the police finish with their questioning. Look,” he pointed. “Here they are now, they really are a slow bunch, aren’t they?” Father Douglas smiled, he wasn’t one to be worried about things that were out of his control, and the death of this woman who neither one of them had ever met was definitely out of his control. So he leaned back on the bench and put his hand on his young friend’s back to comfort him. “It’ll be alright, you’ll see. Just tell them what you saw and leave it at that.”
Samuel nodded quickly.
“Father, um…real quick before they get here,” Father Douglas waved to the nearest police officers to make it seem as though everything were normal, because it seemed like Samuel was about to spill some beans that weren’t only meant for him. “The woman gave me this right before she stopped breathing. She didn’t say much, but here, I figured you will know what to do with this better than I would.” Samuel’s hands were trembling as he handed Father Douglas the small scrap of paper. The Father tucked it into his fist and carefully slid it into one of his pockets in the folds of his robe, all without breaking the eye contact of the approaching officers.
“Hello there, gentleman.” The officer bowed a little while he shook the men’s hands. “My name is Detective Inspector Jackson, Byron Bay Police. Which one of you called in the incident?”
Samuel raised his hand and Father Douglas patted him on the back again, encouraging him to speak. “That would be me, officer. I called it - I called it in.” He looked at the officer and back at Father Douglas, unsure of how to behave. Father Douglas simply nodded and smiled at him.
“Alright, son. Lay it out for me, what happened and about what time did it happen?”
“Well, sir…officer. It all really happened pretty quickly, within about two minutes, if that. This woman…”
“Did you know the woman?” Mr. Jackson asked.
Samuel shook his head. “No sir. She just walked up toward me, maybe going to ask me for help or something? Then she collapsed at my feet.”
“She say anything?” the Detective Inspector was jotting notes down into a small notebook that he’d produced from his shirt pocket.
“No, sir. Not a word.” Father Douglas nodded at Samuel when he spoke, an approving sort of nod. It probably wasn’t best to hide things from the police, but at this point, he wasn’t quite sure what Samuel was getting at with the scrap of paper. That information would likely be shared at some point, but for now, Samuel entrusted it to him for a reason, and Father Douglas was determined to find out what that reason was.
“So what is your purpose here this morning? Here at this café I mean.”
“I came from Hastings Point to meet with Father Douglas before leaving for Thailand for missions.” Samuel answered.
“Just a cuppa between friends,” Father Douglas added.
“Fair enough, thank you gentleman. Please don’t leave the immediate area until we alert you, we like to keep witness close by for more questioning, and if you remember anything else please give me a call.” The Detective Inspector handed Samuel a business card and thanked them for their time once more before leaving them on the bench.
He stopped a few feet away and turned around, “Do you need a doctor, son? Are you in shock or anything? You did witness a death just now, so it would be normal to get some attention if you need it.” Samuel shook his head and thanked him, and the officer turned around and went back through the small crowd.
When Father Douglas and Pere Samuel were finally left alone, after the last onlooker had left them to go stand around near the police cars, Father Douglas unfolded the piece of paper and read it aloud.
Ashley needs your help – 0413-644-000
“This must have been given to the woman just before she died. Either that or she wrote it out to give to the first person she came across during her time of need.” He looked down where the woman had been laying. “Her death was possibly to prevent her from contacting the person who has that phone number.”
“You think?” Samuel asked. “I’m really curious to see who she was. What she was doing here, you know? Do you think they would release that information to the public?”
“Who knows, really,” Father Douglas answered. “Who knows what the police might do.”
Clearly that wasn’t the answer that the accidental monk wanted, so he rose from his seat on the bench and walked over toward the small group of officers that hadn’t left yet.
“Excuse me, Detective.”
“Yes sir?” Jackson answered.
“I was wondering if you were going to release the name of the woman when you found out who she was. If she has any family here I’d certainly like to pray over all of them during their time of loss.”
Detective Jackson paused for a moment, trying to read the young man’s face. “I wouldn’t worry about that, son. There will be plenty of people to pray for her soul once we know who she is.” And with that, they shook hands again and Samuel walked away, unsatisfied with his answer.
CHAPTER 2
As soon as Pere Samuel and Father Douglas got to the Father’s Alvis in the parking lot behind the cafe, the latter removed his phone from his pocket and punched in the number on the note.
“Hello?” a small female voice answered. Whoever she was she sounded weak, and afraid.
“Good morning, ma’am. Are you Ashley, by chance?” Father Douglas knew that it wouldn’t be by chance, but was trying to be polite.
“Yes,” she was almost whispering.
“Well good morning, Ashley. You need not be afraid; I’m here to help you. I was sent by a friend of yours, and was wondering if it would be possible for me and my friend to stop by. We are men of faith, and are well known in the community, so you need not be frightened. We really are here to help.”
The breathing on the other end of the line hesitated, then faltered when she began to speak.
“Yes. That will be fine. Did Liz send you?”
“In fact, she did!” Father Douglas said, feigning elation, as though there were no danger at all. He certainly had a way of making those around him feel comfortable. It obviously worked on Ashley because her heavy breathing slowed so much that he could barely hear it now. “She gave me a note for you, and ask - wanted me to give it to you, personally. Would you mind giving me your address? We’ll head right on over.”
A half hour later, Pere Samuel and Father Douglas were invited by Ashley to sit in the living room of her home. It was a humble home, not much to speak of, but it seemed to be pretty well kept up with. There wasn’t any visible trash, that Father Douglas could see, and it didn’t look like anyone had broken in or caused any trouble. Something did feel a bit odd by it, though. Ashley was an elderly woman who looked a little taken aback by seeing two priests
sitting on the sofa, one of them dressed in a white habit and the other in a black cassock. Father Douglas, with a keen ear for listening to details, carefully explained what happened at the café and explained that her friend had passed away.
“It seemed to be of natural causes,” Father Douglas lied. He didn’t much count it as lying, because to his untrained eye, it did look as though she’d simply fainted and died of something quite natural.
Ashley was silent for a long moment before she nodded in agreement to help the priests. She seemed reluctant, but like she’d resolved herself to it because she had no other choice. For a long moment Ashley thought about what she wanted to say to these two strangers in her home. Father Douglas was used to this pause, and it comforted him greatly. It was a beautiful thing to watch someone work something out in their soul before baring it to him. To the world. The revelation, once said aloud, could never be taken back. Even if someone made him swear to secrecy, there was always that knowledge that it was now out in the open. That was such an intimate moment for everyone who spoke privately with him, for a few sweet moments they were at war with themselves on whether or not to do what they thought was right. Father Douglas never rushed this moment, as he held it most sacred. The lines around Ashley’s mouth pulled together, just so, and her brows became troubled. Just as she took a breath to speak, the nervous old woman slumped back into her chair and closed her eyes.
Father Douglas and Samuel looked at each other, completely puzzled. She couldn’t have fallen asleep because it was too sudden…too harsh. The former rushed to her side and knelt down to take her pulse. There wasn’t one, which was troubling, because she was so very much alive a moment ago.
“A heart attack, maybe?” Father Douglas wondered to himself.
“That would have been the most peaceful and abrupt heart attack I’ve ever seen, Father.”
“Nooo, no. Pere Samuel. Look here.” He brushed the old woman’s hair to the side so that the accidental monk could get a better look at the small puncture mark in her neck.