by Alex Pine
He stopped moving and there was a long, unearthly pause. He’d got himself into a position where he was standing between the doors to the hallway and kitchen. Annie had her back to the wall with the TV and it meant that to flee the room she would have to get past him.
She tried to speak, to ask him if he had lost his mind. But it felt like a hand had grabbed her heart and pulled it up into her throat.
‘Your crime, my dear, was to murder your own baby,’ he said. ‘You should not have done what your father told you to do. You both knew that the Catholic Church forbids abortion, and yet you went ahead with it.’
Annie found her voice. ‘How did you know about that?’
‘Your father came to confession to ask for forgiveness. But by then the damage was done.’
‘But you killed the others, too,’ Annie said. ‘What did they do wrong?’
‘Like you, they carried out the work of the devil.’
Annie’s eyes searched the room for something she could use as a weapon to defend herself. At the same time the priest made his move and started coming towards her, the knife held out in front of him.
Annie screamed, but that didn’t stop him, so out of sheer desperation she threw herself to the left and rushed towards the door leading to the hallway.
But in her blind panic her leg struck the edge of the coffee table and she tumbled face down onto the carpet. As she rolled onto her back, she realised she’d lost her only chance to escape.
The priest was standing over her now and she knew she was going to die.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-TWO
The priest didn’t hear James enter the house because of Annie’s screams.
She was lying on the floor of the living room, at the maniac’s feet, and he was mouthing what sounded like a prayer as he raised the dagger above her. James called out, which prompted him to hesitate and turn.
Shock registered on his face, and he didn’t notice Annie roll across the carpet away from him.
Once James saw that Annie was a safe distance away and getting to her feet, he moved closer to the priest and said, ‘The game’s up, Father. Don’t make things worse for yourself.’
Father Silver looked down and realised that Annie had moved and that to reach her, he would have to get past her husband.
He turned back to James and a slow smile formed on his face.
‘I underestimated you, Detective,’ he said. ‘And that was a mistake.’
‘Just put the dagger down, Father. It’s over.’
The priest nodded. ‘I realise that. Ever since I embarked on my mission, I knew this moment would come. The moment when I would end my own life and offer myself to God.’
‘But isn’t suicide a mortal sin in the eyes of the Catholic Church?’
He shook his head. ‘Not if the act is committed with God’s blessing, Detective.’
He then held the dagger’s grip in both hands and pointed the tip of the blade at his throat.
‘This is crazy,’ James yelled at him. ‘God hasn’t given His blessing. And do you honestly believe that you’re in God’s good books after killing three people?’
His smile widened. ‘You don’t understand. None of you do. You see, I was carrying out the will of God. When I was diagnosed with a terminal cancer, I told Him how disillusioned I’d become. I used this village as an example of how the devil seemed to be winning the war. Most of the villagers have turned their backs on God, and some of them openly condemn what the church stands for. St John’s is to close because the congregation has fallen to just a handful of people. It’s the same everywhere. Society is becoming more secular and more tolerant of sinners. Take those vile vandals who desecrate the graves in our churchyard. They’re allowed to get away with it. The police know who they are but they’re not arrested or punished.
‘So, I told our Lord that it was time for a different approach. That when it came to punishing the wrongdoers and heathens, He needed to involve His true followers. And I asked him what deed I could perform on his behalf. I wanted to make my mark, to make a difference, to show the world that evil will not prevail. I wanted Him to know that I was prepared to do battle with the devil no matter what the cost. It was to be my final contribution to the greater good.
‘And His message to me was clear. He told me to do what I believed in my heart to be the right thing, regardless of the consequences. And so I set out to punish some of those who are doing the devil’s bidding.’
The priest flicked his head towards Annie, who was now standing behind James. ‘Your own wife is one of them. A child killer. A woman who doesn’t deserve to live. Charlie Jenkins was an adulterer. Daniel Curtis was a child molester. And Lorna Manning was a murderer. None of them deserved to live.’
James felt a dark fury well up inside him. ‘You’re insane, Father. And what you’re saying makes no fucking sense.’
‘Maybe not to you, Detective. But the people I’ve killed were the devil’s disciples. And so too were the other nine sinners on my list who will now go on living because I failed to complete my task.’
‘Who were they?’
‘It doesn’t matter now. I only wish I had crossed one more name off my list. One of them was going to die tonight, before you turned up at the church and ruined everything.’
‘And who was that?’
‘Janet Dyer. The village slut. I knew about her affair with Charlie Jenkins because several months ago I saw them together. He used to go to her house when her children were at school. She’s been very lucky. Twice. I was actually on my way to end her life when I saw Daniel on that deserted street. It was pure coincidence. He was fifth on my list but presented an opportunity that was too good to pass up. And the same happened tonight. I was preparing to visit Janet again but you showed up. I realised that Annie would be here alone and when I found the keys in your pocket, I decided to move her up from ninth place on the list.’
‘It still doesn’t make any sense to me,’ James said. ‘What was the point of the Christmas cards?’
The priest smiled again. ‘It took me several weeks to decide who should die. I finally reached the figure of twelve. It so happened that on that very day I’d purchased some cards in the store – those with the Twelve Days of Christmas design on them. It struck me that it would be a good way to ensure that my mission would have maximum impact and grab the attention of sinners all over the world. Twelve days. Twelve murders. I also knew it would cause confusion and that delivering a card to myself at the church would make it less likely that I would become a suspect.’
‘And the dead partridge?’
‘An excellent touch, don’t you think? The bird was a regular visitor to the churchyard and, as I said in the note, I thought it would be a good way to seize your attention. So it became a sacrifice. But you chose not to tell the public about the cards, which was why I had to send one to the reporter.’
‘And what about the framed photo of Lorna Manning that you put on Nadia Patel’s grave? Why did you do that?’
‘Two reasons. I wanted to draw attention to the fact that a woman who didn’t deserve to die is buried there. And I knew it would be a good way to bring you and I together again so that I could find out where you were with the investigation. It worked perfectly.’
The priest’s hands were shaking now and James tried to work out if there was any way he could stop the guy from topping himself.
‘I’ve got nothing left to say,’ the priest said. ‘But I would ask you to make it known what I’ve told you. Sinners of the world need to be aware that things are changing. God is striking back against the devil and there will be more people like me who will carry out the work on his behalf.’
He closed his eyes then and started mumbling a prayer. James reacted by stepping towards him, but before he could get close, the priest plunged the dagger into his own throat.
CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE
Friday December 23rd
The priest was dead but the nightmare wasn’t over. James and Anni
e had to wait twelve hours for the body to be moved from the house. That was how long it took for another helicopter to arrive in the village with a small team of SOCOs and a pathologist.
The village GP had already officially pronounced Father Silver dead; he’d died within minutes of stabbing himself. James had tried to revive him, but had quickly realised it was a lost cause.
James had found his phone in the priest’s pocket and had alerted the other officers in the village. They’d arrived on the scene in minutes, along with DC Abbott.
He was now in the village hall with the rest of the team, having moved Annie into a room at The King’s Head.
DCI Tanner had been briefed and his relief that the murderer had been found was coupled with shock.
‘I’m thankful that you and your wife are safe,’ he’d said. ‘I have to admit this is not how I thought it would end.’
‘He’s not the first madman to claim that God instructed him to kill,’ James said. ‘And he joins an ever-growing list of Catholic priests who chose to ignore the Ten Commandments. I just wish I’d spotted the signs sooner. I should have given more thought to why he received the cards. And, with hindsight, I realise I should have asked myself what sort of person would harp on about only killing those who “deserved” to die. It now seems pretty obvious that it’s something a mentally disturbed member of the clergy might say, especially one who hasn’t got long to live and so has nothing to lose.’
‘Hindsight is a wonderful thing, James,’ Tanner said. ‘That man fooled us all. But thanks to you he didn’t succeed in fulfilling his objective of killing twelve people.’
The rectory and the church were now being searched by officers who had already found the priest’s kill list. It was handwritten, and next to the names were one or two words describing their ‘sins.’
Lorna Manning – murderer
Daniel Curtis – sex abuser
Annie Walker – child killer
Those on the list who were still alive would be informed in due course, if that was what the powers-that-be decided was appropriate.
As the day progressed the weather improved and it stopped snowing. Then, for the first time in days, the sun burst through the clouds.
There was, naturally, disbelief among the villagers that Father Silver, their friendly priest, turned out to be the killer, and shock turned to confusion when they learned that he’d claimed that he had acted with God’s blessing.
James took it upon himself to break the news to the victims’ loved ones and those he had interviewed during the investigation – to varied responses. Sonia Jenkins swore she would never set foot in a church again and Ron Curtis claimed that if the police had done their jobs properly his son Daniel would still be alive. Janet Dyer reacted by saying, ‘I always thought there was something dodgy about the priest. I could see it in his eyes.’
And Keith Patel made it known that he would seek to have his mother’s body removed from the graveyard and cremated, so that he could leave the village and start a new life elsewhere.
EPILOGUE
Saturday December 24th
Christmas Eve rolled around, and James and Annie were having a late evening drink in the bar of The King’s Head. Bill had been with them until a few minutes ago, when he’d decided to turn in.
By now a degree of normality was returning to Kirkby Abbey. People were going out and socialising, but there was only one topic of conversation.
James had sent all the necessary paperwork regarding what had happened to head office, but even though the village was no longer cut off it had been agreed that he should stay put, at least until Boxing Day.
The killer priest still dominated the news headlines, but two other stories were also given extensive coverage.
The two boys who’d been missing in Ambleside had at last been found safe and well. It turned out they’d been exploring a derelict house and had become trapped in the basement. And a man had been charged with the murder of the young mechanic in Kendal. He’d already appeared in court where he was remanded into custody.
James and Annie had decided to stay in the pub for the holiday. Their living room carpet was covered in the priest’s blood and needed to be replaced but the earliest that could be done was Boxing Day.
Still, they had a comfortable room and Uncle Bill would be right there with them for Christmas.
It was coming up to ten and they’d got through a bottle of the house wine between them. James asked Annie if she wanted another drink. She thought about it for a moment and then grinned.
‘I’d rather go upstairs to bed,’ she said with a coy smile. ‘It’s been ages since we tried to make a baby.’
James laughed. ‘And wouldn’t it be something if we managed to do it on Christmas Eve?’
THE END
ACKNOWLEDGEMENT
A big thank you to Molly Walker-Sharp, my editor at Avon/HarperCollins. This book was a true collaboration and without her help and input it would not have been written.
Keep Reading …
If you’ve enjoyed The Christmas Killer, then we think you’ll love the DCI Anna Tate series!
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About the Author
Alex Pine was born and raised on a council estate in South London and left school at sixteen. Before long, he embarked on a career in journalism, which took him all over the world – many of the stories he covered were crime-related. Among his favourite hobbies are hiking and water-based activities, so he and his family have spent lots of holidays in the Lake District. He now lives with his wife on a marina close to the New Forest on the South Coast – providing him with the best of both worlds!
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