A Prayer for the Devil

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A Prayer for the Devil Page 5

by Allan, Dale


  Luke said softly, “But you just said it might not be about Brad.”

  “I just don’t want you to focus all of your energy in one place. If your brother was elected to the Senate, it’s likely that he would have been the fifty-first vote, the deciding one. With a Republican Congress and president, his vote could have had a dramatic impact on laws like Roe versus Wade, English as an official language, offshore oil drilling, and securing our border with Mexico. The elections of Brad and Aaron would have drastically changed the balance of power and the direction of our nation. Anyone from special-interest groups concerned with those issues would have greatly benefited from their deaths and could be responsible.”

  Luke sighed. “It’s just so frustrating, since it feels like the police are getting nowhere with this case. That’s why I’m starting my own investigation.”

  Aldridge replied gravely, “OK, I understand, and I’ll do anything I can to help. But let me give you some strong words of advice: Don’t discuss any of this on the phone, and be extremely careful. You can’t trust anyone.”

  LUKE PULLED BACK INTO his hidden parking spot in the woods, climbed the ladder, and did a quick visual sweep of the backyard. With none of his family in sight, he quickly traversed the manicured sod and entered the house through the rear door. When the children heard Luke in the kitchen, they ran to see him, and he bent down and hugged them tight. Looking up, he saw Deborah standing in the doorway watching. “They’ve been asking for you all morning.” He smiled and stood up with Abel and Alessa in his arms. She continued, “Your father has been asking for you also. He wants to talk to you about something.”

  Still holding the children, Luke walked into the family room, where he knew his parents would be watching television. He sat the children on a small love seat and walked over to greet his parents. While kissing his mom on the cheek, he extended his hand toward his dad. He could tell that his mother was upset. As Luke stood, his father said to the children, “I think your mother needs you in the kitchen.” They quickly ran to find her. His dad pointed for Luke to sit down. Luke moved an ornate chair from the other side of the room so it was in front of the couch, directly facing them.

  Glancing at his mom, Luke’s dad spoke. “We’ve decided that after Thanksgiving, we’re going to move back home. We want to be in our own house.” He quickly added, “But we want you to stay with Deborah and the children. We won’t leave unless you promise to stay.” Surprised at this turn of events, Luke looked down and noticed the newspaper on the coffee table. It was open to the gossip page. There was a half-page picture that must have been taken outside police headquarters a few days ago. It showed Luke extending his hand to help Deborah over a pothole in the street. Of course, there was no sign of the pothole in the picture, leading the reader to believe that they were holding hands. They looked like a Hollywood couple, complete with designer clothes and sunglasses. The sleek black Mercedes was in the background. But what really caught his eye was the headline, “Thou Shalt Not Covet Thy Brother’s Wife!” He couldn’t believe that this headline had planted a seed of doubt in his parents’ minds. “Dad, you can’t possibly think that there’s something going on between me and Deborah?”

  “Of course not, we know that,” his father answered nervously. “But think of how nice it would be if you stayed here with Deb and the children. Your brother would be so happy.”

  Ready to angrily argue back, Luke bit his lip, knowing that his parents were just thinking of what would be best for the children. Instead, he said, “Listen, we have a few days before Thanksgiving. Let’s just take it slow and see what happens.” Content that he didn’t reject the idea, they nodded at him and smiled at each other.

  Luke excused himself from his family and, after another undetected getaway, he made his way to the cemetery for his meeting with Romo. Before leaving the car, he pulled on a hooded sweatshirt, then he stepped out and began walking quickly in the brisk fall air. He hoped that the cold weather would be keeping crowds of visitors and tourists to a minimum.

  The Granary Burying Ground was a Boston landmark, established in the mid-sixteen hundreds. It was the final resting place of some of America’s most prominent historical figures, including three signers of the Declaration of Independence: Samuel Adams, John Hancock, and Robert Treat Paine. Paul Revere and five Boston Massacre victims were also buried here.

  Walking down the old sidewalk that ran alongside the wrought iron fence surrounding the cemetery, Luke was relieved to see that the grounds were practically empty. He stepped through the massive stone entryway and scanned the graveyard for Detective Romo. Not finding him, he waited next to the twenty-five-foot-tall obelisk that marked the tomb of Benjamin Franklin’s parents.

  A few minutes later, he was relieved to see a tall figure approaching wearing a wool stocking cap and sunglasses. He sat down next to Luke without looking directly at him.

  “Nice to see you, Father.”

  Luke mischievously responded, “Is that you, Detective?”

  He smiled back. “So Father, tell me, how’s your investigation going?”

  Luke laughed. “I wouldn’t really call it an investigation.”

  The detective glanced around to see if anyone was watching. “Luke, I was a freshman in high school when you were a senior. I watched just about every baseball game you played. I even went to Boston College a few times to watch your brother play. My mother is a longtime parishioner at Saint Leonard’s, so I feel like I’ve known you for a long time despite the fact that we met just days ago. What I’m trying to say is that you need to be very careful. I’ve been given strict orders to stay out of this investigation. If I try to help you in any way, I’ll be fired immediately and will have to forfeit my pension. If anyone followed me here today, there’s a good chance I’ll lose my job. I borrowed my sister’s car to try to conceal my identity because I felt obligated to meet you, but I can’t assist in any official way.”

  Shocked, Luke quickly replied, “I completely understand your predicament. Please forgive me, I never meant to compromise your career. I won’t bother you again. Please accept my sincerest apology.”

  With that, the detective stood and whispered, “Talk to you soon,” before walking away. Confused, Luke now wondered why the detective agreed to meet him to begin with. Dejected, he tried to figure out what to do next. He heard something buzzing and looked around, noticing a brown paper bag on the bench. He picked it up and opened it, finding a vibrating cell phone inside. Unsure of what to expect, Luke opened it and listened. “Luke, I’ll help you any way that I can. Just remember that we have to be careful. The phone I left for you is a prepaid cell phone that can’t be traced to me. You can use it to call or text me at the number saved in the contact list, but don’t call from inside Aaron’s house, since it might be bugged. If I can’t answer, I’ll call you back as soon as I can.”

  Relieved that the detective hadn’t abandoned him after all, Luke responded, “Thank you so much and God bless you, Detective.” Thinking quickly, he asked, “Hey, one more thing, where do you buy prepaid cell phones?”

  DURING DINNER, LUKE WAS disappointed to notice that once again Deborah had consumed several glasses of wine. This was now becoming a recurring activity, happening nightly for the past week. He knew that his parents would never mention it, so he decided to talk to her himself.

  Searching the house, he found her sitting on her bed, looking out the window. Knocking softly on the open door, Luke asked, “Can I come in?” She didn’t answer but waved him inside and motioned for him to sit down on the bed next to her. Looking straight ahead with his hands on his thighs, Luke asked, “How are you doing?”

  “I just want this sick feeling in my stomach to go away. Sometimes at night I dream of Aaron and I feel so good, then I wake up and the sick feeling immediately returns.”

  “Does the wine help?”

  She turned to face him, understanding the implication of his question. “I know, I need to stop, but it sometimes dulls the hurt
.”

  Smiling, he replied, “Until the next morning.”

  Not wanting to dwell on the topic, and now certain that she knew he had noticed, he moved to another subject. “Have you heard from the financial planner?”

  “Oh, Luke, I’m so sorry, I forgot to tell you. He wants to meet with us. We need to sign some papers and let him know where the money should be deposited. I’m forgetting everything lately.”

  Perhaps the wine has something to do with that, he thought wryly, but he didn’t bring it up again. “I’ll call him tomorrow and set up an appointment.”

  She put her hand on his. “Thank you for being so good to me and the children. I don’t know what we would do without you.”

  Luke smiled weakly and quickly changed the subject. “Do you know if Aaron has any old clothes, especially winter coats, that I could bring to the homeless people in the park?”

  Pondering for a moment, she replied, “I think there’s an entire closet full of old clothes in the basement. Take anything you want.”

  Realizing that he was still sitting next to her on the bed, and feeling uncomfortable, Luke quickly stood and replied, “Great, thanks. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  She forced a smile as he walked out the door.

  Luke quickly located the closet in the basement. When he opened the door and peered in, he was surprised to see how big it was. True to form, it was neat and organized, containing several long shelves stacked with boxes and another section with hanging items. Turning on the overhead light, he entered and began exploring. The boxes were labeled: “trophies,” “college books,” “Hanukkah,” “wedding pictures,” and so forth. Focusing on the hanging clothes, Luke moved deeper inside. There was a section with double rods that contained two rows for shirts and short jackets, and another full-length area for long coats. As he shuffled through the garments, he remembered Aaron wearing several of the items. Looking specifically for winter coats, he began pulling each one off the hanger and piling them in the center of the room. After gathering several short jackets, he moved on to the longer items. As he tossed each coat to the pile on the floor, he couldn’t help but notice the tags on the inside: Burberry, Polo, Billy Reid, Boss. He smiled, thinking to himself that there were going to be some well-dressed people in the park that evening. Any hesitation he felt about giving these beautiful clothes away was quickly overcome by knowing the good it would do.

  As he carried an armful from the closet, he noticed that one of the full-length coats felt heavy. Assuming it was the quilted lining, he didn’t pay much attention to it until he dropped it on the floor and heard a clunk. Puzzled, he picked up the coat, put it on, and began searching the pockets. As he reached into the inside lapel pocket, he felt something. Realizing what it was before he saw it, he slowly pulled out the semiautomatic pistol. Horrified, he looked up and saw his shocking reflection in the mirrored walls. A priest holding a gun; what a blasphemy. Hearing footsteps coming down the stairs, he quickly jammed the gun back into the pocket.

  Deborah appeared, with Luke’s mother. “We came down to see if you needed any help,” she announced. Knowing Luke better than anyone, his mother immediately sensed something was wrong. “Are you all right, Lukey?” She hadn’t called him that since he was a child. Forcing a smile, while trying to compose himself, he responded, “I’m fine, just trying to find some clothes for the homeless.” Looking at Deborah as if trying to impress her, his mother said, “He’s always had a great big heart and an unbelievable amount of compassion for the less fortunate. When he was a small child, he would give away his lunch money to his classmates who didn’t have any.” She walked over and hugged him. Embarrassed, Luke returned her embrace while turning his body to the right to make sure she didn’t feel the handgun in his pocket.

  Deborah smiled. “Lukey. That’s so cute! I’m going to call you that from now on too!”

  Grimacing at his mom, Luke replied, “I’ll get you for this!” and they all smiled.

  As she helped him gather the coats, Deborah asked, “Was the coat you’re wearing in this closet?”

  Luke was taken aback at the question. “Yes, why?”

  “Oh, it’s nothing. I’m just surprised, because Aaron wore that coat often.”

  Thinking quickly and not wanting to take it off, Luke asked, “Would you mind if I kept this one?”

  “Of course you can, Lukey!”

  They laughed, and each of them took an armful of coats and headed upstairs. Rummaging through the garage for several empty boxes, they started packing the coats for Luke to take to the park. But he found himself thinking the whole time, Why in the world would Aaron be hiding a gun?

  AFTER SAYING GOOD NIGHT to his parents and Deb, Luke left the house through the kitchen door and carried three boxes of coats to the back of the property. Hoisting each box to the top of the wall, he gently pushed them over and loaded the car. With the backseat full, he headed to Boston Common.

  “The Common,” as it was commonly referred to by Boston locals, was a national historic landmark. Used as a cow pasture in the early sixteen hundreds, the park has played an important part in Boston’s history. Mary Dyer was hanged from a large oak tree for preaching Quakerism in 1660, and British soldiers occupied the grounds before the Revolutionary War. Protesters filled the park to denounce the Vietnam War in the 1960s, and many famous people, including Martin Luther King Jr. and Pope John Paul II, have given important speeches there.

  In August of 2007, two teenagers were shot on the Common, causing a strict curfew to be instituted for visitors. This restriction was protested by the homeless population who inhabited the park grounds after dark. Weeks after the shooting, the local police turned a blind eye, and the homeless returned.

  Walking past Brewer Fountain, Luke thought that to today’s generation, the park would forever be known for one thing: the bombing in Boston. He had been to this park many times to encourage the homeless to go to the local shelters during the cold winter months. He and his fellow priests often brought clothing and food to those who refused.

  Luke sat down on a bench and started to open the first box of coats when someone yelled, “Stop right there!” Startled, he saw a police officer walking toward him, with his right hand inside his coat pocket, obviously holding a gun. “Stand up slowly and move away from the box,” the officer commanded. Doing exactly as instructed, Luke stood and waited for the cop to approach. Realizing that his scarf was covering his priest collar, he innocently moved his hand to expose it. “Put your hands up and leave them there!” the officer yelled. Luke quickly complied. Moving closer, the officer cautiously examined the box, pulling open the top with one hand while still holding the gun with his other. Seeing the coats, he asked, “Who are you?”

  “I’m Luke Miller, a priest from Saint Leonard’s parish. I’ve come to give some old coats to the homeless.”

  “Can I see identification?”

  While unbuttoning his coat, Luke realized that he still had Aaron’s gun in his pocket. Noticing the officer moving closer, he started to panic.

  “Are you the one whose brother was killed in the bombing?”

  “Yes.”

  Recognizing him and now seeing his collar exposed in the bright moonlight, the officer pulled his gun hand from his pocket and shook Luke’s. “Nice to meet you; sorry for your loss.”

  Seeing that several of the homeless had gathered after hearing the commotion, the officer said good-bye and walked away into the darkness.

  Luke stood with his heart pounding and began giving coats to the waiting people. When he carried the third box from the car, he saw that word had spread, and a dozen or so more were standing by the bench in the frigid air. Handing the last coat to an elderly woman, he noticed that there was still one man waiting in the distance. Luke’s heart was breaking as he thought about what to do. Without hesitation, Luke turned his back to the man and untucked his shirt. He quickly removed the gun from the coat pocket and placed it in his pants, covering it with his shi
rttail. Turning around, he saw the man still waiting. Walking slowly toward him, Luke took off the coat and handed it to him. Obviously grateful, the man quickly put it on. As Luke started to walk away, the homeless man said, “Thanks. Are you the priest whose brother was killed?”

  Luke stopped and turned. “Yes, I am. How did you know that?”

  “I’m sorry, Father. I read the papers when people leave them on the benches. Sometimes I’m a day or two behind on the news, but I try to stay informed.”

  Luke smiled and waved as he turned again to walk to the car. Then the man said something that made him stop dead. “One of the guys who lives here in the park says he knows who did it.”

  Luke froze. “What?”

  The man looked down. “Well, he says he does. And he says the police are never going to figure it out.”

  “Where’s this man?”

  “I can’t say. He’s a recluse, and like most people who live here, sometimes he’s full of shit.” Remembering that he was talking to a priest, the man quickly apologized. “Sorry, Father, I didn’t mean to curse in front of you.”

  “Believe me, I’ve heard worse. Do you think this guy would talk to me?”

  “I don’t know, but I can ask.”

  “Let’s find him now. Where do we look?”

  “Nah, we won’t find him now. He said he wouldn’t be around for a few days. But I promise I’ll keep looking for him.”

  Luke quickly jotted down his name, address, and phone number on a piece of paper.

  “Please, you have to convince this man to talk to me. It’s extremely important.”

  Feeling a need to tell Luke his story, the gray-haired man stepped forward and introduced himself. “I’m John Daly. I’ve been living in the park for about a year. I was laid off from my job and lost my house. My wife was a realtor, but she hasn’t sold a house for over a year, so when she and the kids went back to live with her parents, I just couldn’t go with them. I’m too ashamed. So I live here now. I guess you’ve heard it all before, Father.” When the man saw Luke reach into his pocket for some money, he said, “No, that’s OK. I’ve been unloading crates at the docks and hope to have a full-time job soon.”

 

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