Everybody Called Her a Saint

by Cecil Murphey

  “Because she saw him do it?”

  “No, but she knew.”

  He stared at me for a long time. “You lead,” he said. “I’m with you all the way.”

  As we both stood up, I said, “I can’t prove this yet, but there is a chance I can later.”

  “We have nothing to lose, do we?”

  “Only that we’ll enrage the wrong person and let the guilty one get away.”

  We started to walk, and I put my hand against his chest. “Uh, I, uh, want you to do something. Please.”

  Burton stared quizzically at me.

  “Will you pray for God to help us? I mean, that’s all right, isn’t it?”

  “Here’s my rule,” he said. “If anything is big enough to concern you, it’s big enough to concern God.”

  “I like that,” I said. “That’s a good rule.”

  Burton took both of my hands in his and prayed. The words flowed so easily from him. My uncle’s prayers had sounded more like commands or sermons. I loved to listen to the way Burton prayed.

  When he finished, I said, “You talk—well, as if you’re conversing with a friend. It sounds so natural.”

  Burton beamed. “Jesus Christ is a friend. My best and truest friend.”

  Thirty-Seven

  Burton and I went to find Captain Robert. It took about ten minutes for me to explain everything to him. He didn’t understand about Twila’s lectures and why permission was important, but he didn’t demand any further explanation. I finished and Burton clarified a few minor points for him. I didn’t explain to him and I hadn’t told Burton, but I was positive I knew the killer’s identity. It simply made sense to me.

  “You are convinced that you know the killer’s identity?” Burton asked.

  “No,” I said. “I’m not positive, but I think so.” I turned to the captain and said, “If you’ll help us, we’ll soon find out if I’m correct.”

  He pondered the situation for perhaps half a minute. “I have no objections whatsoever. My concern must always be about the comfort of our passengers.”

  I started to say, “I read that in your brochure.” Instead, I saw the frown on Burton’s face and said, “I’m sure that’s true.”

  “We live in—what do you call it—a litigious world?”

  “We certainly do,” I said. “But I don’t think that is a problem.”

  “You see, Captain, I know every passenger on this ship,” Burton said. “Except for eight of them, the rest are members of our congregation. I don’t think we’ll have any problem.”

  “You think?” the captain asked. “How strongly is that?”

  “I can assure you,” Burton said.

  I looked at his face. He meant it.

  “Besides, you never gave us official permission,” I said. “And if there is any litigation, Burton and I will assume full responsibility.”

  “Then we shall do it,” he said. He turned on the loudspeaker that connected to every room on the ship. “This is Captain Robert speaking. All passengers are please asked to assemble in the theater in ten minutes.” He repeated the announcement twice.

  His voice carried well. In my cabin I heard it every day five minutes before each meal. No one could miss it anywhere on the ship.

  To my amazement, everyone was present before the expiration of the ten minutes. I wondered if they had all been sitting in their cabins waiting for something to happen. Probably not, but I sensed a tension among them.

  Burton counted to make sure no one was missing. “There were forty-seven passengers because Twila did not have a roommate. We have lost two people, so that should be forty-five.” He finished and said, “All accounted for.”

  As soon as Burton assured him that we had forty-five passengers in the room, Captain Robert stood up. “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming.” He made about a thirty-second speech to apologize for our having to return to South America, saying, “In view of the sad circumstances, I am most certain each of you understands.” He concluded by saying, “As you know, Dr. Burton and Dr. West have investigated this deplorable situation as a personal favor to me. They now have something to report to you.”

  He turned toward us and waved at me to come forward. I had previously asked to sit near the door. “It may not be necessary, but as a precaution,” I had said.

  I explained to the entire group about Twila’s book of lectures. On a whim, I asked, “Is there anyone here who doesn’t know about the lectures and the book she was writing?”

  “Everybody knows,” Jeff said. “The gossip mill has spread it everywhere.”

  “You didn’t specifically ask us not to say anything,” Sue said, “but common sense would say we should hold everything in confidence.”

  “I, for one, did not say a word.” Jeff stared at Betty.

  “I didn’t realize it wasn’t—”

  “It doesn’t matter,” Burton said. “In fact, it saves us explanation.” He smiled at Betty.

  “So someone killed Twila because he or she didn’t want to be in the book?” Mickey asked. “That’s strange, because all that person had to do was say, ‘Take me out,’ And she would have done it.”

  “That’s not exactly the reason,” I said.

  “What is the reason?” Jon asked.

  “I’ll answer that later,” I said.

  “I’ll bet all of us, or at least most of us,” Pat said, “were Twila’s patients—”

  “Clients! We’re clients. It’s a kinder word,” Betty yelled.

  “Okay, clients. Whatever!” Pat said. “And for everyone’s information I would never kill Twila or anyone.”

  “I’m in her book, but I would never, never, never kill her!” Jeff yelled.

  I heard a couple of other voices say the same thing. I waited. Oh God, I silently prayed, please, please help me right now.

  “Are you going to accuse me of killing Twila just because I’m in her book?” shouted Jon.

  “We’re making no accusation just yet,” Burton said.

  “But we expect to be able to have some concrete evidence to show who killed Twila and Heather,” I added. “Before we reach Ushuaia tomorrow.”

  “And this is also to tell you,” I said, “that none of you needs to be afraid. I assure you: There is no danger of any further deaths.”

  Burton stared at me, and our gazes locked. I saw the beginning of a smile escape his lips. He nodded slightly.

  “There’s one more person we need to talk to, isn’t there?” Burton whispered. “I think I finally got it.”

  I’m not sure what the Cheshire-cat smile is, but I think that’s what I gave him.

  Thirty-Eight

  I turned to Captain Robert and said, “I think we can dismiss everyone.” He looked at me strangely, and I said sotto voce, “Stay here. We have one person with whom we need to speak.”

  “What? You call us down here just to tell us nothing?” Donny said. “What is going on?”

  “I resent this kind of strange behavior,” Shirley said. “If you have some vital clue or urgent information—”

  “Why did you call all of us here?” Jon asked.

  “All right,” Burton said. “Please forgive any inconvenience. I’ll explain later why we did things this way.”

  We both heard grumbling, but Burton tried to assure everyone. “Trust us,” he said several times.

  Captain Robert talked to several people, and so did Burton and I. However, I watched the one person I wanted to stay. I realized Burton was doing the same thing. Burton had figured it out. As soon as that person reached the door, I leaned over and said, “Can you wait until the others leave?”

  “Oh, I can wait for you anytime,” he said and gave me a full grin.

  It took perhaps three minutes before everyone left the room. Once they were all gone, I walked over to where Jon Friesen was seated. “Jon, I asked you to stay because I have a question for you.”

  “Anything. Or I could ask you a few questions—a few very personal questions.�
��

  “Ah, but I’m first,” I said and smiled.

  “Go right ahead.”

  “I’m curious about something. How did you know Twila was writing about you?”

  “Word got around that she was going to write about all her patients—her clients.”

  “You mean you heard that on board the ship?”

  “Nah! I knew before we left. The word had circulated, so we knew.”

  “Everyone knew? All of you?”

  “Probably not all, but the word got around that she was going to use us in her lectures, and afterward she’d polish it and have it published.”

  “How did you know?”

  He shrugged. “All of us knew. It wasn’t any big secret.” He shook his head. “Can you believe it? Some of them were delighted to have her spread their names all over the world.”

  “Some people like publicity of any kind,” Burton said. I knew he was making conversation and waiting for me to take the lead.

  “But how did you know?” I asked. “Did Twila tell you? About the book?”

  “I don’t remember the details, except—”

  “Did she tell you that you were one of the people in her lectures?”

  “Maybe not directly, I mean, I know I’m one of those she chose. Why wouldn’t she want me in her lectures and her book?”

  “Good question,” Burton said. “I assume you have rare qualities and presented a unique case for her.”

  “Unique. Yes, that’s true.” He seemed to preen as he answered.

  “Did she ask you to sign a permission slip?” I asked.

  He blinked, and the easygoing manner seemed to slide away from him. “I don’t remember signing one, but I may have. I signed a number of papers. Twila was always shoving a paper in front of me to sign.”

  “Who told you—the first one who told you—what Twila was doing?” I asked.

  “Hmm. Will I get someone in trouble if I tell you?”

  “You may get into trouble if you don’t tell me.” I thought that was a brilliant response. “We think we know who killed Twila and Heather, but we need your help.”

  “Of course I’ll help you.” The smile was in place again.

  “And—” Burton asked.

  “Betty Freeman. Please. I don’t want to get her into trouble. You see, she had a long talk with Twila and asked her to make some changes.”

  “Because Twila painted her too—too dark?”

  Jon roared. “Too dark. No, she didn’t think it was dark enough. She felt she had been in far worse shape before she started treatment. So, yeah, that’s how I found out.”

  “Anything you can tell us about Betty and the lectures—the book?”

  “She told me she had second thoughts and wasn’t sure she wanted to be in Twila’s book.”

  “When was that? When did she tell you?” Burton asked.

  Jon stared into space for a few seconds. “That first landing. King George Island. Yeah, that’s when it was. On the Zodiac going over.”

  “Was she upset? I mean, really upset?”

  Jon eyed me cautiously. “I’m not going to get Betty into any serious trouble, am I?”

  “I don’t think so,” I answered.

  “In that case, she was really ticked. She didn’t explain why, but she kept saying she needed to talk to Twila and straighten something out.” He looked into my eyes and said, “You don’t think Betty would—”

  “People react strangely when they’re angry or upset,” Burton said.

  “Yeah, yeah, they do.”

  Just to keep him off balance, the way good lawyers and detectives work, I asked, “Did Twila ever say specifically that you were in the book?”

  “No, I mean, not in so many words, but I knew.”

  “How did you know?”

  “I just knew.”

  “But Twila didn’t say so.” I kept my voice calm and I hoped conversational, so he wouldn’t know how important his answers were.

  “Not in so many words.” He looked at me, and just then it seemed as if the lights came on inside his brain. “You knew I didn’t sign a permission form, didn’t you?”

  “It was a good guess.”

  “Did you ask Twila if you were in the book?” Burton stepped closer. He handled the question well and in such a casual way he might have asked about the weather.

  “Yes, as matter of fact, I did. That made me angry—not angry enough to—to hurt her or anything like—”

  “But angry.”

  “It’s my life, isn’t it? If she was going to teach and write about me, didn’t I have the right to know?”

  “Of course you did,” Burton said in a smooth, quiet voice. “It’s a normal question. Why wasn’t she open with you?”

  “I don’t know. Honest. I don’t know. But I asked.”

  “What did she say?” Burton was a trifle too eager, but I didn’t think Jon picked up on it.

  “She said, ‘That is none of your business.’ Can you imagine that? None of my business. It was my life.”

  Neither of us said anything to Jon. The captain, as an objective observer, sat silently and listened to everything. For several minutes Jon ranted. He called Twila unprofessional, unfeeling, uncaring. He said she only wanted to make money from her clients and report their cases so she could become a big star in her field. His voice grew louder. He slammed my chair twice with his fist.

  I interrupted with the pseudo Carl Rogers approach that first-year students at the university used. “You’re really quite angry now, aren’t you?”

  “Wouldn’t you be upset? Of course I was upset. I had planned to talk to her about it, but—well, you know, someone else must have been even more ticked off than I was.”

  Burton said nothing, but his facial expression was such that Jon felt secure enough to continue ranting.

  Jon used a lot of profanity before he stopped abruptly. “I’m sorry, pastor. You’re a man of God and all, and—”

  “I’ve heard those words before,” Burton said.

  Good for you, darling, I thought. That was a perfect answer.

  I wasn’t aware how long Jon yelled, but his anger increased instead of diminishing. That’s typical of a person in his condition. After a while, even the profanity became repetitive, so I said, “You are so angry, Jon. Her actions really upset you.”

  He stopped in mid-sentence and slumped in a chair.

  Now I knew.

  His extreme anger made it clear that he hadn’t benefited from his therapy.

  Thirty-Nine

  “Excuse me just a second, will you?” I said to Jon.

  “If I must—but don’t go too far.”

  “Oh, I’m not going far,” I said. Despite my anger, I gave him a fairly decent smile. “I need to speak with the captain about something.”

  I walked across the room and tried to sound as if I were whispering to him. “He’s the one. We think Jon Friesen killed Twila and Heather.”

  “I heard that! You are crazy! You’re the one who needs a psychiatrist. You’re crazy, you know!”

  Burton moved right in front of Jon and put his arm on the man’s shoulder. “I certainly hear your protests. She’s made a strong assertion about you.”

  Jon swore and called me the worst names that seemed to rush into his head. “I thought you loved me,” he said. “I thought—well, I thought we had something going for us!”

  I thought he was going to spit at me.

  “I’m glad I found out now about who you really are.”

  “I think we can settle this,” Burton said. “It’s very easy, you know. And if Julie is wrong, I shall insist that she apologize to you.”

  “Thank you, Burton. You are a friend. A true friend.”

  I thought Jon was going to hug him. Instead, he extended his hand and shook Burton’s.

  I wanted to smile. Burton had gotten my message even though I had not said one word to him. “So how does Jon prove that you’ve falsely accused him?”

  “Simple,�
�� I said. “We can search his room.”

  “Would I kill a couple of people and keep the weapon?” Jon leered at me.

  “Let’s search his room anyway,” I said.

  “Search my body first,” Jon said. “I might have some weapon on me.”

  I nodded to Captain Robert to do just that. I was sure Jon didn’t have the evidence on his person, or he wouldn’t have been so insistent that we search him.

  But I wasn’t looking for the murder weapon. I was sure he had disposed of that.

  The captain patted him down. I wondered if that was something they taught sea captains or if he had seen the same movies I had.

  “Let’s go to your room.” I said the words in a commanding tone. “If I’m wrong, I’ll get down on my knees and apologize.”

  Jon snickered like a ten-year-old boy. “I’d really like to see that!”

  “Then let’s go,” I said.

  Burton led the way, and Jon swaggered behind him. I say swaggered, but both had to hold on to the railing because the ship was really heaving and rocking wildly.

  “Do you think he has the knife—or whatever it was—in his room?” the captain asked me softly.

  “No, I don’t,” I said. “I think we need to assume that he threw it overboard.”

  “Or I didn’t have any weapon,” Jon said. “I heard that. So if I threw a knife overboard, why would you search my room?”

  “There is something else—something that I think we will find inside your room.”

  “Oh, and what would that be?”

  “A camera,” Burton said. “Unless you’ve thrown that away.” He winked at me.

  I frowned at Burton, but I thought, You really don’t miss much.

  “You think you’re so brilliant!” Jon shouted. “You won’t find a camera in my room. I didn’t kill anybody.”

  “Wow, that sounds just like the dialogue on a TV series called The Closer that had reruns just before we left.”

  Jon dropped his head. It was obvious he had watched the same episode, and I’d caught him.

  “The man on that show was innocent,” I said. “Remember?”

  “And so am I.”

  “Prove me wrong!” I didn’t wait for an answer but moved ahead of him and Burton. “Which cabin?”