“I killed him.” Pierce fought the urge to laugh as Peter’s eyes widen. “Well, not him specifically.” He rolled the window down a few inches and lit a cigarette, enjoying it for a moment before continuing. “When I was in Afghanistan… Pedophilia in one form or another is quite common. One night, I was on my way back from a local restaurant and I happened upon a man… with a boy. He was about the age I was when… So I looked at the man, and I killed him. It was justice for that boy. After that, I was able to let it go.”
“I’m sure God forgives you for doing that.”
“I never sought God’s forgiveness. But after that… I was finally able to forgive myself.”
Peter nodded. “Forgiveness. It is the most complete revenge.”
Epilogue
December 2011
Westminster Cathedral
Pierce glanced at his watch again, then up at the imposing building beside him. Westminster Cathedral rose in its ornate grandeur, the intricate patterns of its neo-Byzantine façade glowing as the setting sun illuminated its white stone bands, giving them a golden glow that intensified the deep coloring of the brick running between them. He shuffled through his jacket pockets, pulling out his cigarettes and lighter, and getting one lit in record time.
Pierce enjoyed several puffs on the cigarette, then sighed and pulled out his mobile. There were two more messages… Pierce sighed again, and quickly hit the button to return the call. The phone rang, and rang, then went to voicemail.
“Eh, it’s Newcastle… You know what to do.” The beep came quickly after that and Pierce cleared his throat.
“Uh… Yeah, Josh, it’s… me. Sorry, mate, I should have called you back before this. Uh, had a case that was a bit… much. So, uh, call me back… And I’ll answer this time. Or, if you can, meet me at the canteen tomorrow, after morning roll.” Pierce took the phone from his ear, staring at it a moment before he ended the call. He looked at his watch again, then took a final drag of his cigarette, tossing away the end. Pierce took a deep breath, letting it out in a whoosh before he slowly pulled open the door and slipped inside.
The dim quiet of the vestibule wrapped around him like a somber cloak. He inhaled, the smell of bees’ wax candles and incense from the altar wafting to him on one of the many church air currents. It was familiar, and Pierce found himself mechanically going through the motions of childhood as he dipped his index and second finger into the Holy Water font by the door and making the Sign of the Cross on himself. Forehead… chest… left shoulder… right shoulder…
They were a good bit into the service, and Pierce recognized the sing-song chant of the Litany of the Saints as he quietly walked in and down the aisle, his eyes scanning for a seat on the end where he could easily slip in. He found one, genuflecting quickly and scooting in. At the end of the aisle, he could clearly see the altar, and the Archbishop kneeling on the altar predella. On the floor of the sanctuary below, the prostrate forms of the priestly candidates stood out, patches of brilliant white on the dark background of the floor.
The Archbishop stood, his mitre rising high above the heads of the deacons and acolytes accompanying him.
“Almighty Father, we pray that you bestow on these servants of yours the dignity of the priesthood. Renew in their hearts the spirit of holiness, so that they may be steadfast in this second degree of the priestly office received from you, O God, and by their own lives suggest a rule of life to others.
“May they be prudent fellow-workers in our ministry. May they shine in all the virtues, so that they will be able to give a good account of the stewardship entrusted to them, and finally attain the reward of everlasting blessedness.
“We ask this through our Lord Jesus Christ, your Son, who lives and reigns with you, in the unity of the Holy Spirit, God, forever and ever.”
The congregation intoned, “AMEN.”
The Archbishop then began singing the Veni Creator, and was soon joined by the choir. The hymn was familiar to Pierce, though he didn’t join in the singing. Baby steps, Rick… Baby steps… He shifted slightly in his seat as the prostrate ordained rose and the Mass proper resumed. He hadn’t been to Mass in… years. Not since the funeral, though his mum had certainly never hesitated to mention it. Frequently. But right now, he had to admit that sitting there, looking around at the stained glass windows, the statues… absorbing the atmosphere, the scents, the sounds… the familiarity was rather comforting. Oddly comforting, actually. Pierce shifted in his seat, his hands clasped in his lap, and returned his attention to the service.
The Archbishop had finished leading the Creed and had moved to the middle of the altar. He was seated on a faldstool, its ornately carved curves and silk-covered cushion giving it more the look of a throne than a simple folding stool. The ordained approached him one by one, kneeling in front of him. The Archbishop placed his hands on each, speaking the words that bestowed upon a Catholic priest one of his most significant and least understood roles, that of confessor and absolver of sin.
Pierce watched as Peter Hamilton stepped up, his blond head bowed as he kneeled down before the Archbishop. The Archbishop placed his hands on him as he spoke.
“Receive the Holy Spirit. Whose sins you shall forgive, they are forgiven them; and whose sins you shall retain, they are retained.”
Forgiveness. Peter had said that it was the best revenge and, though Pierce had grown up under slightly more lenient religious education than previous generations, he wondered if perhaps it applied to God as well. Perhaps forgiveness was the best punishment that could be bestowed on humanity, leaving them indebted to your mercy, constantly grappling with their feelings of unworthiness and guilt. Forgiveness wasn’t something he had every asked for… In his mind you asked forgiveness when you did something wrong, and Pierce had never felt that he did anything wrong. Not that he thought he was a perfect man, by any means, but after years spent in war and on the job, he’d seen enough of people to know that the average soul was much darker than most would care to admit. It was just natural, and why would you apologize for being human?
Pierce watched as the service concluded and the newly ordained assembled to process from the cathedral. Many were somber, head bowed, hands clasped in silent contemplation. Others were smiling, nodding to family and friends gathered to celebrate with them. And then there was Peter Hamilton… He was in the line on Pierce’s side of the aisle, and his expression was somber as he walked along. A few feet from Pierce’s seat, Peter’s expression changed. He frowned lightly and looked up, his eyes locking with Pierce’s. The procession had slowed to a stop, giving Peter a moment to see Pierce. His frown faded, and a slow smile spread across his angelic face. Pierce nodded in greeting. He saw Peter begin to raise his right hand as the procession started forward again, and assumed the younger man was attempting to wave to him. But no…
Peter held up his right hand, his right index, middle finger and thumb extended, and moved his hand up, down, left, then right, making the Sign of the Cross.
Peter lowered his hand, folding them in prayer again, and gave Pierce a bow of the head in greeting as he moved away with the other newly ordained toward the vestibule and the outdoors beyond.
Pierce felt his jaw tighten, emotion getting the better of him. Tradition held that the first blessing of a priest was incredibly significant, though there were no indulgences or special privileges attached to it by the Church. Still… he felt the gesture was important. When they had last seen each other, Pierce had essentially made a confession of sorts, and while Peter could not properly absolve him at the time, there was something about this blessing that refreshed Pierce. His mind felt clearer, his heart a little lighter.
Perhaps, there was something to seeking forgiveness after all.
“For with the Lord there is mercy, and with him is plenteous redemption.”
Psalm 129 (“De Profundis”)
The End.
Mysteries Book 2)
De Profundis (Kate Gardener Mysteries Book 2) Page 14