“I can imagine that.”
“Yeah.”
The quiet descended for a few moments, broken only by the wail of police sirens approaching. The vehicles quickly came into view… and pulled in front of the hospital. Pierce and Kate shared a look, then both quickly jumped out of the car and hurried to meet the nearest uniformed officer.
Pierce held up his warrant card. “Detective Sergeant Pierce. Constable, what’s going on?”
The tall, skinny uniformed police constable scratched his ginger-haired chin. “We’re not entirely sure, Sergeant. 999 received a call indicating that there was an attack of some sort going on.”
Pierce and Kate share another look, before Pierce asks, “Did you get any names at all?”
The PC frowned in thought, then brightened at the remembrance. “Yes, Danton.”
“Peter’s lawyer.” Pierce looked at Kate as she said the words in a hushed voice. She looked at him, her eyes wide, then abruptly turned and ran for the front door. Pierce took off after her, catching up as she pulled open the doors and disappeared into the lobby.
Pierce sensed that the police constable, and perhaps several others, were behind them, but he didn’t stop to explain or give directions. God knew how long Walker had been up there, and the possibility of him harming his nephew again, this time fatally, was very real. Kate ran by the bank of elevators and went straight into the stairs. Pierce followed her in, expecting her to be running right in front of him.
Kate wasn’t in sight.
He took the stairs two at a time, establishing a rhythm very quickly as he ascended toward the fourth floor and the wing where Peter’s room was. He could hear sounds in the stairwell, below him where the police constables were thundering up the stairs, and above him where he heard the stairwell door thud closed. It had to be Kate, but how did she get up the stairs so fast?
Pierce reached the fourth floor and swung open the door, dashing out into the hallway, his warrant card out and in-hand to warm any overzealous personnel to back off and clear a path. He made it down the hallway and turned right toward Peter’s room.
Up ahead, Kate was in the hallway, sliding a card of some sort between the door lock and the door jamb, trying to slip the lock and give them access to Peter’s room. Danton was as close to hysterics as most men will allow themselves to get, babbling in French and gesturing toward the door, at times obscenely.
Kate glanced up as Pierce arrived. “They’re in there. Both of them. The door is locked. I don’t think I’m going to have time to pop it before…” She trailed off, the unspoken loud and clear as she returned to the door. Walker was in there with Peter… Had been in there for far too long.
Pierce turned his attention to Danton, grabbing him by the shoulders. “Danton? Danton!” The Frenchman quieted, his eyes focusing on Pierce with recognition and relief.
“Sergeant! Thank God! He —”
“Danton! How long has Walker been in there?”
Danton frowned, struggling to focus on the question. “He, uh… He arrived about twenty minutes ago.”
Pierce noticed the police constable and other officers coming out of the stairwell, as well as the two large, broad shouldered orderlies advancing quickly down the hallway toward them. He focused back on Danton.
“How long has it been quiet?”
Danton paled as he spoke. “Shortly before you arrived.”
“Right.” Pierce turned to the orderlies. “I don’t suppose you have a key for this, do you?” In response, one of the orderlies held up a stick-like key and stepped forward toward the door, and Kate.
“Excuse me, miss,” he said, his voice strangely soft for his immense size. “I have the key.”
Kate quickly pulled the card from the door and hopped back away from the door, allowing the orderly to slip the key in and quickly pop the lock. The door swung open and Pierce and the police officers quickly rushed in.
Kate hung back, peeking around the frame of the door to see inside. She caught a glimpse of Peter Hamilton lying on the floor, his face pale, his body still as Pierce and the orderlies hurried to his side. She didn’t see Walker, though. Kate quickly stepped back as the police officers came barreling out of the room, splitting up and going down the hallway in different directions. Once they had gone, she stepped toward the door again, then crossed the threshold into the room. “Rick? Rick, is he okay?”
Pierce’s voice was deeper, tighter, and strangely controlled when he answered her. “He’s breathing, but still unconscious. It looks as if Walker tried to strangle him. He fought hard, the scrapper.” Pierce’s voice caught a bit at the end and he returned to Peter, talking to him, shaking him gently, patting him, trying to get him to stir awake. The orderlies stood by helplessly… There wasn’t much they could do, really…
Kate started to turn, her gaze moving toward the adjoining bathroom… and closet… the closet with the door slightly ajar… She took a step toward the door, the hair on the back of her neck standing up as she listened… listened… and heard…
“Rick!”
His name had barely crossed her lips when Kate felt the whoosh of air slam into her as the door swung open, followed seconds later by the whoosh of a large body coming forward and grabbing her by the shoulders. Hard. For the millionth time in her life, Kate was grateful that she didn’t have her father around, only because she wouldn’t have to explain to him where the bruises on her arms came from. Because, yeah, there would be bruises after this. She looked at his face, only a few inches from hers. Walker’s eyes were bloodshot, his face wearing the evidence of years of drinking, just as his body bore the signs of abuse. He had the gall to wear the black today, his Roman collar staring back at her from around his pudgy neck.
“Walker? Let her go.” Pierce was standing now… Kate could tell when he spoke, his voice actually sounded… taller. It still had that deep, controlled tone, but now there was a tinge of something else. Anger. And the anger was going to win out very soon. Kate tried to remember if she had seen him carrying a gun.
“If you hurt her, your teeth are going to be in the nick before you are… Now. Let. Her. Go.”
Kate felt Walker’s hands relax ever so slightly, and it was the moment she needed. She quickly moved her hands up to his forearms, steady herself as she brought her knee up, slamming him in the balls with as much force as she could muster. Oh my God, I am heartily sorry… for kneeing this evil priest in the balls… The effect was instantaneous, with the bulky man quickly crumpling to the floor in pain, groaning as the orderlies quickly assisted Pierce in subduing him completely.
Kate scooted over to Peter’s side, brushing the hair from his forehead as she took his hand. His eyelids fluttered ever-so-slightly, then opened. Peter looked at her for a moment that seemed longer than it actually was before his eyes widened with recognition. “You.”
Kate smiled. “Me.”
He turned his head carefully, taking in the scene as more police officers entered the room and, together with the orderlies, pulled Walker up to a standing position. Or at least as well as he could stand under the circumstances.
“Who did that?” Peter’s expression was one of surprise, and satisfaction, as he looked at Walker’s crumpled form being led from the room, Pierce’s smooth voice “reading” Walker his rights.
“Ah… That would be me as well,” Kate replied.
Peter turned his gaze back on her, and uttered a single word: “Brilliant.” Then he laughed… a strained laugh, since his throat was traumatized.
Kate wasn’t sure if he was hysterical, or relieved, or maybe both. She tried to reassure him, patting his shoulder as she spoke. “He’s finally going to pay for what he did… To Father Coyle… And to you.”
Peter’s laughter faded to a steady chuckle. “Yes. Yes, he will.” The chuckle faded away, leaving only a broad smile plastered across his baby face.
“So, as an almost priest, I suppose that particular penance that I administered was both unusual and appropriate, c
onsidering…” Kate trailed off, her lip twitching as she fought her own laughter.
Peter looked at her for a moment, then started chuckling again. “Yes, I would have to say so.” His smile faded slightly, and his eyes grew moist as he continued. “Father Mark always said that the best revenge was forgiveness, and that you have to have faith in justice, you have to believe it exists. We can’t always see it, find it, but it true Justice truly exists.
And in the end… all sins must be atoned… one way or another.”
20
October 2011
Victoria Embankment
Kate sat down, settling into the bench that faced out on the Thames. The evening was quickly approaching, and the lampposts along the Embankment were beginning to spark to life. She held up the large, soft serve ice cream cone in her hand… Dark chocolate, of course… And took a generous lick, then another. “He was just so… Noble. About all of it.” Kate licked again, her tongue gliding another smooth line around the piled ice cream.
“And you know what was really crazy about all of this? We come up with all these plausible reasons why Walker might have done this. Good reasons. Not like there’s a good reason to bludgeon someone to death with a sixty-pound statue, but… you know what I mean. Revenge for what happened with Peter, unrequited love, you name it… Hey!”
Beside her, Parris Devereux smiled, the evidence of the giant mouthful of ice cream he’d just taken off the top of the cone still smeared around his upper lip. “It was melting.”
Kate narrowed her eyes as she reached out with a napkin and rather roughly wiped his upper lips free of ice cream. “Mmm-hmm.”
Parris sat back again, his arm draped along the back of the bench behind Kate. “So… Why did he do it?”
“Apparently it all came down to greed. Sort of. Walker wanted to be the pastor of Holy Innocents. Felt he’d earned it after being quote-unquote punished for all those years because of the thing with Peter.”
Kate paused, taking another large lick of the ice cream cone. She moved the cone over near Parris, and he quickly leaned in and took another generous bite. Kate took another bite for herself before she continued.
“Walker was really good with church accounting. Nothing creative, just an eye for saving money and making money. I guess over the past decade or so he’s saved, like, five churches from bankruptcy, kept schools open.”
“Holy Innocents is… wealthy.” Parris frowned lightly. “It wouldn’t have been in need of his expertise.”
“He saw it as a kind of retirement for himself, having dinners and giving community to these same kinds of people he’d pursued when he needed to fund a festival or set-up scholarship.”
“But they gave it to the other priest.”
Kate nodded, biting into the ice cream cone with a crunch. “And that was what put him over the edge. Coyle was the reason he got caught… you know, about Peter… and Walker didn’t approve of the stuff Coyle was doing. Walker just snapped.” She got ready to bite into the ice cream cone again, but instead held it out to Parris. Kate watched as he smiled, then bit into the cone, taking a bite of the remaining ice cream as well. He’d gotten chocolate on his lip again, and Kate reached in her vest pocket for another clean napkin. This time, though, she was more gentle and deliberate as she reached out and wiped his upper lip carefully. Parris’ eyes found hers quickly, and she was rendered a bit breathless by the intensity of his gaze. His eyes were so direct when they looked at her, like they were seeing her, and through her, and beyond her into… God only knows what dimension.
Kate lowered her eyes quickly under the pretext of searching for her own next bite of the cone, but realized she wasn’t hungry for ice cream anymore. She held it up for him, but Parris waved it off, too. Kate stood quickly and walked over to a nearby trash bin, tossing the remnants of the cone into it and wiping her hands carefully before throwing the napkins away as well.
“Parris, why did you come to the inquest?”
“They are open to the public.”
Kate turned, braving his soul-stripping gaze to make direct eye contact. “Yes, but why did you come?”
“Because… I wanted to see you. Didn’t expect all of that.” Parris ran a hand through his dark hair, a curiously nervous gesture that caught Kate off guard. Up until now, “nervous” would not be a word she would have associated with Parris Devereux. He bit his lip, a lingering movement that made Kate’s stomach do a little flip.
“I’m sorry about Warwick… He was an ass, doing what he did to you. I told him that, too.”
Kate chuckled. “You told him he was an ass? What did he say to that?”
“He said he was doing his job…” Parris trailed off, hesitating as he looked askance at her. “And that I should stop thinking with my dick.”
Kate trained her eyes on the river, shining brightly in the rapidly approaching twilight. “Really? That’s interesting. Why would he say that?”
“Can’t imagine.” Stealth was one of Parris’ many talents, apparently, since he had managed to get from the bench to her in record time without her even realizing he had gotten up. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from Kate’s forehead, his fingers trailing along her cheek and down to her chin. Kate couldn’t control the involuntary shiver that raced through her body. “Are you cold?”
“A little.”
He started to take his leather jacket off, but Kate stopped him with a hand on his arm.
“No. Leave it on. I like it… on.” Parris moved the jacket back up onto his shoulders. He couldn’t fight the satisfied smirk that appeared as he adjusted the collar.
“So you like the leather?”
“When you texted you were going to wear it, I thought you were kidding.”
“No. No, no, no.” Parris stepped behind Kate, opening his jacket up and stepping up close to her, his chest pressing against her back. “And, since you won’t let me take it off, I’ll just have to find an alternative way to warm you up.” He wrapped his arms, and the jacket, around her, pulling her close to him and resting his chin on her shoulder. “Better?” He breathed, his mouth close to her ear, his breath warm against her cheek. Kate couldn’t fight the shiver, again, but she nodded along with it, hoping her affirmative gesture would hide the movement of her body. “Good.”
So they stood like that, God knows for how long, watching the last remnants of day fade into night, Parris’ face tucked into the side of her neck, his arms tightly wound around her.
For once, Kate’s sensory overload was a boon, and she couldn’t think of a time when she had ever felt quite so blissfully warm.
***
“Bedlam”
“I don’t know what I’m waiting for,” said Peter, the moisture in his eyes threatening to spill out. He was standing in the foyer of the hospital, his small bag resting at his feet.
Pierce looked at him over the top of his sunglasses. He wasn’t sure what instinct had led him to jump in his car and drive to “Bedlam” the minute he heard that they were releasing Peter Hamilton, but seeing the state that the younger man was in, he was certainly glad that he’d followed his impulse. “Did you call for a taxi, Peter?”
“No.”
Pierce nodded, grabbed the bag from the floor and motioned toward the doors. “C’mon.”
Peter followed along meekly, his head down as they stepped out into the late afternoon sun. He seemed to be in a kind of trance as he walked to Pierce’s car, but shook himself out of it when Pierce opened the passenger door and tossed Peter’s bag into the back seat.
“Oh, Sergeant, I’m sorry! You don’t have to take me home, I can call for a taxi. I —”
Pierce held up a hand, effectively silencing Peter, then used the same hand to motion toward the front seat. “Get in.” He turned and walked around to the driver’s side.
Peter hesitated a moment longer, then got into the car, closing the door carefully. He put on his seat belt, then watched as Pierce fastened his own and started the car. “Thank you,
Sergeant.”
“You’re welcome. Where to, Mister Hamilton?”
Peter smiled slightly at Pierce’s formality. “Allen Hall, please.”
***
They drove in silence for quite some time. Pierce actually thought Peter might have dosed off at one point, until the young man leaned his head back on the seat and smiled.
“I never thought… he’d ever be punished for what he did. And he isn’t really, at least not for what he did to me. He’s being punished for killing Father Mark. Still…” He trailed off, his expression oddly content.
“When is your ordination?”
“Two weeks from Saturday. I’m excited. And anxious. I want to be a good priest.”
“You will be.”
Peter frowned. “I don’t know. I sometimes think that I’m not suited, that I have too much darkness in me, in my soul. Like this feeling… Should I really be happy that Father Walker is being punished? Doesn’t seem very Christian, to take delight in the punishment of others.”
“Perhaps, but it is human.”
“I suppose.” Peter’s frown faded, and his voice was softer when he spoke again. “Leaving behind what he did to me… how it has affected me for my whole life is… difficult. It’s a part of who I am now, unfortunately. Now… it’s as if I can let it go now in a way I never could before. I’ve sort of being given permission to move on. And there’s a small corner of my mind that doesn’t want to.” Peter shrugged, a rueful smile on his face. “It’s hard to explain to someone who doesn’t understand, you know?”
Pierce frowned slightly, his jaw tightening. “Yes, I know.” He paused for a moment as they slowed to a stop at a red light. He swallowed hard, then glanced at Peter briefly before clearing his throat.
“When I was at school… an older boy in my house… I was twelve… I never told anyone… Until now.” The light turned green, and Pierce zipped forward to merge into traffic. “Through my teenage years, I blamed myself. I was weak, I’d asked for it somehow, it was my fault.”
Pierce pulled the car up in front of Allen Hall, parked and turned off the engine. Peter looked out the window at the picturesque buildings housing the diocesan seminary, but made no move to get out, instead turning to Pierce, his expression at once puzzled and pleading. “How did you cope?”
De Profundis (Kate Gardener Mysteries Book 2) Page 13