The Priest at Puddle's End (A Lady Marmalade Mystery Book 10)

by Jason Blacker

  Pearce didn’t say anything. Turnbull looked from Pearce to Lady Marmalade.

  “Let the kids live their lives,” said Turnbull. “Or you’ll ruin them. If they ain’t bad kids now, they’ll be so by the time they get out of jail. You don’t know what it’s like to be buggered like that when you’re small. I mean look at me. I might ‘ave finished school, I might ‘ave been able to take better care of me ma. Have some compassion in your hearts, yeah?”

  Turnbull sucked on his cigarette and blew smoke out of his mouth. He tapped the cigarette on the ashtray. He wasn’t looking at anyone.

  “Chief Inspector Pearce is making sure that more help is coming into Puddle’s End,” said Frances. “There’ll be social workers and psychiatrists coming to help. I’d urge you, Carbry, to speak with them about your difficulties. I don’t believe it’s ever too late.”

  Turnbull looked up at her. He didn’t say anything. He looked back down at his cigarette. Then he looked back up one more time.

  “Yeah, alright, I’ll talks to one of them, see what they has to say,” he said.

  Frances smiled.

  “I’ll pay for your accommodation while you’re here,” she said to Carbry. “I’ve already made arrangements with Finley Moran at The Wet Whistle.”

  Carbry nodded at his cigarette.

  “Your food will be paid for too,” said Frances.

  “Thank’ee,” said Turnbull, too embarrassed to look up at Lady Marmalade.

  “Well, Devlin,” said Frances, “I think I know where we’re going next.”

  She stood up and walked out of the room, followed by Pearce and Noble. Outside in the main reception area Florence sat reading a magazine. She stood up when she saw the three of them.

  “Oh I am sorry, Fran,” she said, “I just couldn’t bear to hear about those horrid things that happened to those poor children.”

  “I know, Flo. No need to apologize. We’re off now to The Flying Blizzard to arrest Galen Teel.”

  “Sergeant,” said Pearce, looking at the local police sergeant. “I’ll let you have the honors if you’d like?”

  “Thank you, Chief Inspector. I would like that a great deal.”

  “Good, then let’s be off.”

  EIGHTEEN

  A Hard Blizzard Falls

  IT was late afternoon by the time they all arrived at the pub. Inside was dark but the eyes adjusted quickly. Noble left a constable by the front door to keep anyone else out. A second constable followed them inside and stationed himself with a clear view of the interior.

  Lottie and Galen were behind the bar talking over some paperwork. Harmonie was just finishing up inside with a customer having dropped off a pint of beer. Holme couldn’t be seen.

  Galen looked up and saw them when they all walked in. Florence, Frances, Noble and Pearce all walked up to the bar. Galen smiled, but it was not the smile of the brave.

  “Hello all,” he said. “Have you come for some pints?”

  “No, Mr. Teel,” said Sergeant Noble, “we’ve come to arrest you for the murder of Deacon Kerr Millar in nineteen twenty-nine.”

  “Ha!” said Teel. “I’ve heard that Turnbull was in town. What lies has he been spreading now?”

  “What’s going on, Daddy?” asked Harmonie as she walked in behind the bar to stand with her parents. Holme also came out of the kitchen carrying a filleting knife. His apron was smeared with streaks of blood.

  “Put the knife down, son,” said Noble. The constable started to walk towards them, but Holme ducked back into the kitchen and put the knife down and came back out.

  “What’s this all about then?” asked Holme.

  “We’ve come to arrest your father for the murder of Deacon Kerr Millar back in nineteen twenty-nine,” repeated Noble. “And we’ve come to arrest you for the murder of Father Kane Fannon, and you Ms. Harmonie Teel for the murder of Mrs. Matilda Walmsley.”

  “But I, but how…” said Harmonie.

  “Don’t say another word, Harmie,” said Galen forcefully to his daughter. He turned to look at his son. “And you’ll be quiet too.”

  “So what’s it going to be? Are the three of you coming quietly or are we taking you by force?” asked Noble.

  Frances put her hand up to quiet the Sergeant.

  “We know, Galen,” she said. “We have the evidence. We know the belladonna bush in your front garden was not trimmed by the gardener. We asked him.”

  “Then he’s lying,” said Galen. “That bush has always been difficult to grow.”

  “We also know that Holme was heard on the phone speaking with someone shortly before he left on the night of Fannon’s murder and addressing them as Father.”

  “But I…” said Holme.

  “Quiet!” said Galen more loudly. He then turned to Frances. “He was speaking to me. He was taking one of the orders from our customers and he had a question for me about how long it would take. Isn’t that right, son?”

  Holme nodded.

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  “And then there’s the birdhouse in your front garden Galen, in plain sight you’ve kept the donation box you stole from the church as a birdhouse. Why is that?”

  “It’s just a birdhouse, I have no idea what you’re talking about a church donation box. I haven’t been to church in decades?”

  “That’s right,” said Frances, “not since you stole that donation box and murdered the Deacon.”

  “Not true,” said Galen, though he was starting to show cracks in his resolve by the tone of his voice.

  “And then there’s Carbry Turnbull,” continued Frances, “who’s offered us an eye witness account of that murder, and he’s very willing to testify in court,” she lied.

  “I doubt that,” said Galen, “he was abused by those bastards.”

  He shut up quickly, realizing what he’d just said.

  “That’s right, Galen, and how do you know about that?”

  Teel didn’t say anything.

  “Turnbull told us he saw the whole thing. Saw you crack the Deacon’s head wide open with a piece of headstone, and how you came back out and had words with him and gave him the money from the donation box and a couple of pounds that were in your pocket. You told him to leave town. And then there’s Colin Lewis, who’s decided to clear his conscience. He saw you too, and you know he did, for you tried to hush him up…”

  “I never touched that boy,” said Galen.

  “I know you didn’t. We understand why you did it, Galen,” said Florence. “You need to clear the air and tell us what happened. Sergeant Noble wants to charge your children with murder too, but maybe there’s a different story to the murder of Father Fannon and Ms. Walmsley, one where Holme and Harmonie aren’t involved.”

  “What’s she saying, Gale?” asked Lottie. “Is it true?”

  He looked at his wife for a long while before kissing her forehead.

  “Those two were buggering the children here. The Deacon had started with our children too. I couldn’t let them get away with it any longer,” he said.

  “Is that true?” asked Florence, looking at Holme and Harmonie. They looked at their father. He nodded at them.

  “Yes, Ms. Hudnall,” said Harmonie. “The Deacon had started to try things with Holme and me. Nasty things, just before Daddy took us away from church.”

  Florence looked at Holme.

  “I’ll not talk of it,” he said. “Those men got what they deserve.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me, Gale?” asked Lottie.

  “I didn’t want to upset you, dear,” he said, and then he turned towards Frances and Noble. “I did it, I killed them all.”

  Lottie gasped.

  “I killed the Deacon like you said. He got what he deserved. So did the others.”

  “Tell us what happened, Galen?” asked Frances. “With the Deacon.”

  Teel closed the book that was in front of him and put down the pen on top of it. He looked down and sighed.

  “I suppose the
re’s no use hiding it anymore,” he said. “The Deacon was abusing the kids, and I wasn’t about to let it continue. I’d just gone down to the church, on my walk like I said, to confront him about it and tell him to stop it. I didn’t mean to kill him.”

  “Why didn’t you just tell the police?” asked Florence.

  He looked at her and smiled wearily.

  “They wouldn’t have done anything about it and it would have given them carte blanche. The Deacon even told me so. He said the police had investigated him in Scotland and nothing had come of it. He said nobody will believe a child over a man of God. He denied it too, but not very effectively. I told him he’d better lay his hands off the kids. And he said, ‘Or what?’. I told him I’d take it into my own hands. He laughed at that.

  He thought that was funny. Laughed right in my face. Then he turned around and I was incensed. I picked up a piece of marble and hit him over the back of the head as hard as I could. I needed him to stop. I couldn’t let him continue to hurt the children.”

  “And then what happened?” asked Frances.

  “I checked to see if he was dead. He was. I hadn’t meant to kill him, but I had no choice you see. It wasn’t only Harmonie and Holme he was hurting. There were lots of kids from what I’d heard. Then I got the idea that maybe I’d make it look like a robbery too. I thought that way they’d put it on Turnbull. I went up to the church and ripped the donation box from the post.

  Then I came out the back, the way I’d gone in. I knew Peter would be up in the front as I’d seen him there when I’d snuck in to find the Deacon. But as I was coming down the grounds to head into the field and then do a wide turn up through the rectory I saw Turnbull there. I had words with him. And what he said about what happened to him and his dislike for the Deacon I felt pretty safe he’d be off with a few bob I’d given him.

  And then it was up to Colin, but he was a young lad, and I thought if he’d been abused I might be able to intimidate him into keeping quiet. I’m surprised I got away with it this long.”

  “Well,” said Frances, “I suppose that if the police hadn’t been fixated on Turnbull as the murderer you might not have.”

  “Or even if they’d spoken with Colin to any great degree he might have cracked,” said Florence.

  “Possibly, Flo,” said Frances, “but I think those who had been abused by the Deacon saw Galen here as a hero.”

  “I think they still will,” said Florence.

  Frances looked back at Galen. Lottie did not seem very upset. Instead she had her hand around her husbands waist.

  “I will spare no expense on the best lawyer,” Lottie said to Frances. Frances nodded.

  “I cannot condone what Galen did,” said Frances, “but I do understand. But how did you come to realize that your children might have been abused by the Deacon?”

  “There were a couple of things,” he said. “The first was that they started to act up before going to Sunday School, and they’d get sullen when they came home. But what really made me realize was some bruising I saw on Harmonie and Holme one day when I was getting them a bath ready. They both had some bruising on their inner thighs.

  I asked them about it but they both said they’d taken a fall which I found quite odd. And then there were the rumors. And with what I’d seen with my children, I felt that if there was smoke there was likely a fire. So that sealed my resolve. We never went back to church then.”

  “Galen and I had talked about the rumors and he was adamant that we leave the church until these things were put to rest one way or another,” said Lottie. “I saw the bruises too. Holme was maybe ten at that time and Harmonie eight, and I thought it odd that they’d both gotten bruised similarly at the same time, but they said they’d been horsing around like children do.”

  “I never told Lottie of my suspicions, I didn’t want to frighten her unnecessarily,” said Galen.

  “And not being a strong believer in God, it wasn’t hard for me to give up church,” said Lottie.

  “We’re having experts brought up from Blackpool,” said Frances. “They should be here tomorrow to help those who have been abused. I do hope you’ll make use of them.”

  Frances was looking at Harmonie and Holme.

  “I don’t think that’s necessary,” said Harmonie. “Holme and I weren’t ever raped we were only touched.”

  “Still, my dear,” said Frances. “That’s inappropriate and abusive of minors. I do hope you’ll reconsider. These experts have worked with other children who have been in similar situations. I do urge you to at least speak with them.”

  “Please do it,” said Galen, looking at his children.

  “Alright, Daddy,” said Harmonie.

  Galen looked hard at Holme. He looked away.

  “Yeah, alright,” he said.

  Behind them the two men who had been drinking pints called over Harmonie. She went over to them.

  “And yet,” said Frances, “from what we hear, the priest was just as much of an abuser as the Deacon was. How come you didn’t speak with him about it?”

  “Well, I only found out about it from Turnbull after I’d murdered the Deacon. That’s when he told me the priest was just as bad. Seems like he was more secretive about it. And I’m not a murderer, Frances. I was just trying to protect my children. If the Deacon had just admitted to it. If he’d just apologized and promised to stop I wouldn’t be in this position. I got angry, that’s all. I’m not out to exact vengeance for all the wrongs in the world.”

  “Then why did you decide to murder Matilda Walmsley and Kane Fannon just recently? Almost seventeen years later.”

  “I’d had enough, hadn’t I, of the abuse all these other children had been suffering all these years. I thought if I’d gotten away with it once I might be able to get away with it again.”

  “But you had no proof,” said Frances.

  Harmonie had returned and was standing back where she had been earlier with her family.

  “Well, Holme and I had found out about some of the abuse that was still being done to the children around here and we told Daddy about it, didn’t we?”

  She looked at Holme. He nodded.

  “We just didn’t know what to do, Daddy said he was going to tell the police and that they’d sort it out.”

  “Yes, that’s right,” said Galen, “but I chose to take the law into my own hands.”

  “This makes no sense,” said Frances. “After all these years, you hear another rumor and decide to do something about it?”

  Galen nodded.

  “That’s the story.”

  “Daddy knew we were telling the truth, because Holme and I are involved in the Scouting and Girl Guiding programs here. That’s when we discovered the abuse. You see we’d had similar bruises, and we both saw that same bruising on some of the children we were instructing in Scouts and Girl Guides,” said Harmonie.

  “But why Matilda Walmsley?” asked Frances. “She wasn’t abusing any of the children.”

  Galen looked over at Harmonie.

  “Because she was turning a blind eye to the abuse. She knew what the priest was doing and she did nothing about it. For over twenty years she watched like a sentinel, blind and deaf to the plight of those poor children. Isn’t that right, Daddy?”

  “Yes, exactly right. She had to pay. A miserable woman if there ever was one.”

  “Sounds like you knew more about Matilda than your father did,” said Frances.

  “I told Daddy what I knew,” she said.

  “And how did you know that Ms. Walmsley turned a blind eye to the abuse?”

  “Because the young girl told me that one time she was in Father Fannon’s office and he was doing things to her that Matilda walked in and quickly left. So she knew.”

  “I believe that,” said Frances. “What I don’t believe is that your father murdered Matilda. I think you did, Harmonie.”

  Harmonie tried to lock eyes with Frances, but she couldn’t, she looked away. But she didn’t s
ay anything.

  “I told you that I did,” said Galen, intervening.

  “And what about Kane Fannon?” asked Frances. “Why wait until late at night to kill him?”

  “I thought that was my best opportunity.”

  “What? When you were out delivering food to others?”

  “That’s right,” said Galen.

  “And what time did you kill him?” asked Frances.

  “I can’t say for certain. Sometime around ten?”

  “You’re not certain?”

  Galen looked at his son. Holme had his hands below the bar. Galen was looking down towards the floor, when he was actually looking at his son’s hands. Holme opened and closed his one hand twice. Galen looked over at Frances.

  “It was ten. I’m certain,” he said.

  “And where did you kill him and how?” asked Frances.

  “Father said he murdered him in the confessional. Stuck the filleting knife right through his left ear. Isn’t that right, Father?” asked Holme.

  “That’s exactly as it happened.”

  “And you felt this was appropriate to tell your children?”

  “I felt the need to confess, and I knew they’d understand what with all they’ve been through.”

  “And what did you do with the knife?” asked Frances.

  “You left it in the priest,” said Holme.

  “I’m not asking you, Holme,” said Frances.

  “Well that’s what I did.”

  “And what about your fingerprints?”

  “I wiped them all away with my handkerchief.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes, really.”

  “That’s strange, as we have a witness who saw Holme leave just around the time you did and Holme was wearing gloves and carrying a shiny object in his hand,” said Frances.

  “Well, it was a cold night, and as Holme told you the last time you asked, he went to get the filleting knife we have at home, as I’d taken the one at the pub here to kill the priest.”

  “We also have word that you arrived at Shan Beake’s home at exactly ten to deliver food,” said Frances, “as she was just sitting down to listen to the news service. Toft says you were at his home at ten fifteen because he remembers looking at the clock when you arrived. That doesn’t give you very much time to murder Kane Fannon does it, Galen?”