Keeping Promises Can Be Murder: A Lexi Taylor and Ray Jansen Mystery

by Susan Goslak

  “You’re not the one! You’re not the one! The man ran to the back of the church and grabbed the small wooden box which was where people put their donations for the poor. He ran back to the dead body and smashed the homeless man’s face. Then the man knelt down and prayed.

  « Chapter Twenty Three »

  Ray remained in the area till daybreak. He drove home frustrated and tired. He called the office and left a message saying that he’d be in late. Then he called me.

  “Good morning, Gorgeous!” he said when I answered the phone.

  “Ray! Where are you?

  “I’m at home, about to get a few hours sleep before I go into the office, and I’m safe.”

  “I’m sorry, Ray, I know you can take care of yourself. I trust you. I lost my head at work. I just panicked when I thought that I might lose you. I’m sorry.”

  “Lexy, Honey, after you left, Mike and I ate the Chinese food you got for us and we had a long talk.”

  “Mike? Mike who?” I asked. “Do you mean Mike our janitor?”

  “Yep, He’s a nice guy, smart, too. He helped me realize that you were so upset because you love me.”

  “He is smart. I do love you. I had a long talk with my sister. She made me realize that I have to forget the past and live in the present. She reminded me of that old saying that goes something like this: The past is gone and we can’t change it. Tomorrow never comes. Therefore we must live in the present and know that the present is a gift.”

  “That’s true, Honey. And you are a gift to me. How about tonight I show you how much of a gift I think you are to me?”

  “It’s a date! I’ll see you later at work.”

  Ray took a shower and crawled into bed feeling better after having talked with me. I drove into the office, parked and took the elevator to the main floor. I stopped in the card store for a cute apology card, and then I went to the bakery for a chocolate chip cookie.

  Mike stopped me on my way to the elevator. “Miss Taylor, how are you this fine morning?”

  “Oh, good morning, Mike. I’m good. How are you?’

  “Have you spoken with Mr. Jansen? He was upset about your discussion last night.”

  “I know, Mike. I was scared that he might get hurt. He didn’t get hurt, so I feel good today.”

  “You know that sometimes he has to put himself in jeopardy and that must make you nervous and worried, but you have to trust

  him and be strong,” Mike said.

  “Ray told me that you two had a long talk. Thank you for supporting him, Mike. You’re a good friend. We talked and I apologized. Look, I said as I held up the card and the cookie, I got

  him some make up gifts.”

  “Chocolate chip cookie, eh? The way to a man’s heart is through his stomach,” Mike chuckled.

  “Thanks again, Mike,” I said as I got on the elevator. I hurried into Ray’s office and put the card and cookie on his new desk.

  Ray was asleep for only three hours when his phone rang. It took him a few minutes to realize that his phone was ringing. “Jansen,” Ray mumbled into the receiver.

  It was Father O’Shea. He was practically incoherent.

  Ray became instantly alert as soon as he realized that it was Father O’Shea speaking. “Slow down, Father. Tell me that again.’

  “Ray, there’s a dead body here in the church! A dead body! I was just making sure that all the hymnals were in place and I found him.”

  “Have you called the police?” Ray asked.

  “Yes, Ray. In fact, I hear sirens now.”

  “Go talk to them, Father. I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

  Ray threw cold water on his face, quickly dressed and drove to the church. There were two squad cars, the medical examiner’s car, and several unmarked police cars parked in front of the church. Two uniformed officers stood guard at the entrance to the church. A small group of parishoners who had been turned away by the officers stood off to one side of the entrance waiting to see what had happened.

  Ray parked his car and ran up the steps two at a time. The officers, having been told to expect Ray, let him enter.

  Father O’Shea spotted Ray the moment he entered and practically ran over to him. His face was pale and slightly green. “Ray, thank you for coming so fast. This morning I was just doing what I always do and I saw this poor man.” Father’s hand shook as he pointed. Father made the sign of the cross. ”God help us. What kind of evil are we dealing with?”

  “Sit down, Father, you’ve had a shock. Do you want me to call a doctor for you?”

  Father sat in one of the pews. “No, Ray, I’ll just rest here a while. I’ll pray for the soul of our departed brother and for the soul of the murderer.” Father bowed his head as tears ran down his face.

  Ray put a hand on Father’s shoulder and looked at Jim Donner’s face. Both looked grim. “I’ll take Father to the rectory. When you’re ready, you can question him there,” said Ray.

  At the rectory Ray made a strong cup of tea for Father O’Shea and laced it liberally with Irish whiskey. One sip brought some color back into Father’s face and he was ready to answer questions when Lt. Donner came in.

  Lt. Donner took a seat at the kitchen table across from the priest. “I just have a few questions, and then you can rest.”

  Ray set a cup of tea in front of his friend. “Have some tea, Jim.”

  Jim looked at Ray, “Tea?”

  “Try it, Buddy,” suggested Ray.

  Jim took a tentative sip, chuckled and said, “Father, you make a real good cup of tea.”

  Father smiled half heartedly.

  Jim took another sip of tea and asked, “Father O’Shea, do you know the man who was killed?”

  “Yes, I believe that I do. I think that he is a homeless man who comes in from time to time to rest. Sometimes he falls asleep and I make sure that he is awake before mass starts. I think his name is Rodney. I don’t know his last name. I was checking on him this morning that’s how I discovered him.” Father involuntarily shivered when he remembered what he had seen.

  “You say he’s a homeless man?” asked Ray. “He’s pretty well dressed for a homeless man. He’s even wearing new shoes. The soles aren’t dirty or marked yet.”

  “I can explain that,” said Father. The dead man is a regular shopper at our clothing store. We take donations of used clothing from our parishoners. The ladies guild washes and mends them and once a month we invite needy people to come in to get clothing for free.”

  Jim asked a few more questions, then left to go back to the precinct. He asked Ray to meet him there in two hours.

  Ray stopped at a fast food restaurant for a quick breakfast, then headed to our office. Where he met with Paul and spent about half an hour discussing the murder case.

  I rose from my seat when I saw him leave Paul’s office. “I’ll bring a fresh cup of coffee in to you in your new office,” I said.

  Ray smiled and said, “Coffee will be good, and the office is

  great. You missed your calling. You should have been an interior decorator.”

  “Do you really like it? You’re not just saying that?”

  “I really think it’s great, and I really think you are great for doing it for me. Thank you.”

  You deserve it,” I said as I turned to get the coffee.

  I waited a few minutes to give Ray time to find the card, then

  I took the coffee in to him.

  Ray looked serious. “What’s this?” he asked. “You didn’t have to get me a card. The cookie is another matter,” he added as he broke it in half and handed me one half.

  We both took a bite and said, “Mmmm.”

  Ray put his cookie down and embraced me. He gave me a kiss that was hot and needy. “Don’t run away from me ever again. I don’t want to contemplate life without you. I need you.” He kissed me again and as he did he ran his hands up and down my back and pulled me closer.

  I kissed him back and held him close. “I need you, too. I l
ove you.” I pulled away. Now, finish your cookie and get some work done so we can enjoy our evening.”

  Ray took a last sip of his coffee and set the cup down on his desk. Still munching his cookie, he walked rapidly out the door. “Gotta go now. Jim asked me to meet him at his office. We’ve got another D.B.

  When Ray arrived at Jim’s office he was greeted by Jim’s supervisor, Captain Glen Lee. The captain is a small man of mixed race-Caucasian and Chinese. His hair and eyes are dark. He is always neatly dressed. He is quiet, and calm. He rarely smiles. “I’m aware that you’ve been working this case, Ray, and we appreciate your help. Because we respect the agency you work for I’ll allow

  you to continue as a civilian consultant as long as you do what Lt. Donner tells you to do.”

  “Look, Glenn, I’m not interested in taking any notoriety from you and your boys. I became interested in this when one of the dead men was presumed to be William Logan, the man I was looking for. My search led me to a homeless community. I like those people and I don’t want to see any more of them killed. I’ll do whatever it takes to apprehend this killer, and if I can help in any way that’s great, but all the credit is yours.” He walked over to Jim’s murder board and studied the photos and time line that were posted there. The men who worked under Lt. Jim Donner entered the room and took seats some on chairs and some on desks.

  “Okay, let’s go over what we know,” said Jim. He pointed to the murder board as he spoke. “One: all the victims were homeless men. Two: they all looked similar: same color hair, close in height, similar build. Three: all the murders took place on a Wednesday. Four: each man was manually strangled. Five: each man’s face was bashed beyond recognition. Six: all the victims were white. Seven: the murderer attends church. Eight: all the murders have taken place either in the park or on the perimeter of the park. What questions do we need to ask now?”

  Someone asked, ”Why is Wednesday significant?”

  Another man asked, ”Why does he bash their faces?”

  A third man asked, “Why is he choosing homeless men?”

  “Does the perp live in the area?” asked the fourth man.

  Jim added the questions to his murder board.

  “Can’t we assume that because he uses his hands as weapons

  that this is personal for him?” asked Ray. Can we also assume that the park is somehow connected to this? Maybe a loved one was murdered in the park and he’s seeking revenge?”

  “Good questions, Ray.

  “It seems that we’re dealing with a serial killer. So far we don’t have any hard evidence. Last Wednesday’s attempt to get him to make a move on our decoys failed. We’ll try again this Wednes-day. Meanwhile, let’s see if we can get some more facts,” said Jim.

  He assigned one man to research any murders that had taken place in the park or near the park in the last five years.

  “Concentrate on murders that took place on a Wednesday,” suggested Ray.

  He assigned a man to research like crimes and to check if any perpetrators of those crimes lived in the area.

  He assigned a man to check on any crimes in the area that had been perpetrated on or by a homeless man.

  “Ray, you and I will check with health care professionals to see if our murderer has sought help.”

  Captain Lee spoke, “If this guy stays true to form he’ll murder again on Wednesday so we have less than a week to find him. Get any uniforms that you need to help you. I’ll okay the overtime.”

  Everyone headed off in different directions. Ray and Jim went to Jim’s desk to do a search to see how many mental-health professionals were in the area. They made a list and each took half.

  One of the names on Ray’s list was a run-down clinic two streets over from the church. He went there first. Ray had to wait for

  the counselors to be free so it took a little longer than he liked. No one there recognized the sketch of the suspected murderer. He visited three private offices and no one in any office recognized the sketch. Jim had the same luck with the first few names on his list. Ray returned to the office at five and we went out to dinner followed by a walk in the park, looking for a murderer.

  « Chapter Twenty Four »

  On Friday Ray continued visiting health care professionals, so did Jim and neither of them had any luck. In between visits he stopped at the rectory to see how Father O’ Shea was feeling.

  “Come in. Come in!” welcomed Father O’Shea. “What can you tell me?”

  “We don’t know anything that we didn’t know yesterday,” admitted Ray as he walked through to the kitchen and took a seat at the table. “Lt. Donner and I have been going to health care professionals to see if any of them have ever cared for the man in the sketch that I showed you. Neither of us has had any success.”

  Father took a seat opposite Ray. “That’s a good idea. May I suggest that you check with priests in the area. Our man comes to mass here, so he must have a religious background. If he has sought counseling, he may have gone to a priest.”

  “Father, I’ve been talking to Father Timmons over at St. Norbert’s. I’m really frustrated. I think he knows something, but he won’t tell me because of something called the seal of the confessional. He’s protecting a murderer because he won’t reveal

  what was said in the confessional. That’s just wrong in so many ways!”

  Looking very serious Father O’Shea said, “Oh, that is a problem. Father Timmons can’t tell you, or anybody else, what he hears in the confessional. If he did he’d be excommunicated.

  Ray pounded his fist on the table. “That church law is against everything I believe in as a former cop and a private investigator. I believe that anyone who has information that can help a law enforcement officer take a murderer off the streets has an obligation to society to tell that officer.”

  “I can see how frustrated you are,” said Father as he rose and walked to the stove to light a fire under the tea kettle. “There are many people who feel the same way that you do. Unfortunately, there’s nothing you or anyone else can do about it. The church isn’t about to change that law any time soon and no priest is willing to risk excommunication by going against it.”

  Father poured boiling water over the tea leaves in the pretty green tea pot that had once belonged to his grandmother. “I’ll fix us a little refreshment.”

  Ray ran his hand through his hair. “I’d appreciate that, Father.”

  Father O’Shea fixed two mugs of strong tea laced with sugar this time instead of Irish whiskey and handed one to Ray. He sat down again and looked earnestly at Ray. “There is no way that you’re going to get any information out of Father Timmons, so you are going to have to come up with another plan of action. Let’s put our minds together and maybe we can come up with

  something useful.

  Ray took a sip of his tea and smiled, “You do make a good cup of tea Father, even without the usual sweetener.” He took another sip. “I’ve been thinking that I could sit in church and watch all the people who come out of the confessional and eventually the man in the sketch would come out and I could take him down. The problem is that I think he goes to confession on Thursday and before we get to next Thursday, we’ll get to next Wednesday and somebody will be murdered. I’d like to avoid that. So, the question is what can I do now to stop this guy before we lose another homeless man?”

  “Ray, I feel you frustration, and your sadness at the loss of all those lives. Would it help if you posted the man’s picture in many places all over the area?”

  “That’s an idea worth thinking about. Maybe we can put his picture in the newspaper and on T.V. We could say that he’s a person of interest in a police investigation. I’ll run it by Lt. Donner to see what he thinks.” Ray drank the last of his tea and stood up. “If you think of any other ideas, Father, call me. Thanks for the tea.

  Father O’Shea rose, too. He put his hand on Ray’s shoulder. “Are you carrying the cross I gave you?”

  Ray pulled the c
hain out of his shirt and showed father the cross. “My girlfriend gave me this chain.”

  “Good. I’m glad you’re wearing it close to you. Do you know how, on T.V. someone will ask if the investigator is carrying a gun? Well, I feel that the cross will protect you better than a gun would.”

  “You might be right, Father, but, if you don’t mind, I’ll carry

  both,” replied Ray.

  “Oh, my, do you mean that you are armed now?” asked Father.

  “No, no, not now, but I will be on Wednesday night when I hope to confront a killer,” answered Ray.

  Father looked relieved. “I hope you don’t have to use your weapon when you apprehend the killer.”

  “You seem sure that I will apprehend him,” said Ray.

  “I know that you will. I also know that you will be safe. The cross I gave you is a symbol of God’s protection. He will keep you safe.”

  Ray and Father had walked to the door while they were talking. Father gave Ray his blessing before opening the door. “Go with God, my son.”

  Ray left the rectory, fingering the cross before tucking it back under his shirt, and went to our office. He spoke with our boss about Father O’Shea’s idea, and then he walked to my desk and asked me if I’d like to go to lunch with him.

  When we were seated in a booth at a café near our office, and the waitress had brought our drinks, Ray told me about the latest dead body, Father Timmons, Father O’Shea’s warning and all the other things that he’d experienced in the last few days. I was listening so intently that I didn’t even notice when the waitress brought our food.

  “If Lt. Donner says it’s okay, I think you should let the media have the sketch and see what they can turn up. At least that’s safer than you posing as a homeless man and acting as a decoy.”

  “Let’s not go there,” said Ray firmly. He stood up. “Come

  on, I want to stop by Jim’s office on the way back to our office.”