“After the arrest, then we question him. There’s no getting around this. We have no choice. We have to do it.”
Knowing Sam is right, I rest my head on my hands. This is the part of the job I hate the most. Arresting a priest. How am I going to do that?
Chapter Thirty-Six.
The steps of the Catholic Church are filled with people. Sam park in front, and we get out. Immediately, we’re bombarded by the crowd. Everyone is yelling and demanding answers. For some odd reason, people are angry and shoving each other to get close to us.
Sam and I push our way through the crowd, almost tripping on the steps because we can’t see where we’re going. We get to the front entrance, where two community support officers are standing as if they’re keeping guard.
“What’s going on here?” Sam shouts over the noise.
“One of the pastors was arrested,” the brunette answers.
DS Green took Pastor Murray to the police station without telling me. She’s trying to close this case like that’s going to make a difference in whether or not her secret is revealed.
“How long ago?” I ask the brunette.
“Two hours.”
Sam and I fight our way back through the crowd again to our car. Once we’re inside, the crowd circles us. All we see is angry faces and hear incoherent yelling. I turn on the siren. Sam honks the horn. He presses the gas slightly, giving everyone fair warning, but they don’t move. I take out my gun. The crowd on my side backs away. I get out, holding my weapon up. The group gets the message loud and clear, and they create a path. I holster my gun and get back in the car.
Sam floors the gas, driving as fast as he can to the precinct. Running lights and breaking speed limits, we make it there within ten minutes. We get up to the third floor, where only about a handful of detectives are at their desks. Father Butler is pacing the floor.
“There you are,” he says, walking over to me. “You must speak to DS Green and tell her you made a mistake.”
“Excuse me,” I reply, going around him. I head down the back hall where the interrogation rooms are located.
I enter into the first viewing room, where Robinson is observing the discussion between DS Green and Pastor Murray. A community support officer is in the corner, watching and listening. DS Green has all the physical evidence from the police headquarters vault on the table that I’ve gathered during my investigation and from the crime scene. Pastor Murray appears to be silently frustrated.
“Has he confessed?” I ask Robinson.
“No.”
“I’m going in there.”
He blocks my path.
“What are you doing? Move out of the way.”
“You don’t walk in on an interrogation that your boss is giving to a suspect.”
“But this is my case.”
“You want to be fired? Just cool out until she’s done.”
Frustrated beyond words, I back off. Robinson turns up the volume on the intercom and folds his arms across his chest. Pastor Murray has just answered a question, and DS Green has picked up a baseball bat off the table.
“Where did you get this?” she asks.
“It’s not mine,” Pastor Murray answers.
“I didn’t ask if it was yours. I already know it’s not. I want to know where you got it?”
“I never had it in the first place.”
“Lying to me will not save you.”
“I agree. It won’t. It’s the reason why I’m not lying to you now.”
“You took it from a homeless woman, didn’t you?”
Recognizing the apparent false accusation towards the pastor, Sam clears his throat and glances at me. I’m angry. I want to stop the interrogation, but it won’t do any good. I won’t be able to save him by getting fired.
Pastor Murray sighs and shakes his head, “Detective, I didn’t do what you claim.”
“Yes, you did, and after you took the baseball bat, you used it to kill Ruby.”
“You can say it however many times you want, but it doesn’t change the truth.”
“Pastor Murray, you are going to jail. There’s no need to fight the inevitable. Just be honest, and I can work to reduce your sentence. I’ll speak to the prosecuting lawyers, and I will do everything in my power to ensure you are treated fairly.”
“You speak lies. You won’t do a thing for me.”
“I get why you won’t admit to what you’ve done. I understand your hesitation.”
“What are you talking about now?”
“You’re ashamed to admit the truth.”
“I’m not ashamed of anything.”
“You liked Ruby, didn’t you? You asked her on a date, but she refused your advances.”
“Don’t be crass,” he says with disgust.
“I get it. You’ve made a vow, one that cannot be taken lightly, but hey, you’re a human being first and foremost. And human beings have needs. Succumbing to the flesh is easy. A beautiful girl like Ruby. Red hair, young, and I hear she was a sweet girl.”
“That is enough. I am done being accused of murder. I am done with your rudeness. Charge me and take me to jail, otherwise release me.”
“Pastor Murray, you need to come clean.”
“I said I was done. This conversation is over.”
DS Green stands and signals to the community support officer to handcuff Pastor Murray. Robinson goes in and starts collecting the evidence. Pastor Murray is led out of the other door while DS Green and Robinson are talking. I look to Sam, who is just as unnerved as I am about the whole situation.
DS Green looks into the viewing glass. Robinson told her I’ve been watching. She comes into the room, unphased with my presence.
“What did I tell you to do this morning, Detective Kipling?” she says in a nasty tone of voice.
“You said that I had until tomorrow morning to close the case.”
“No, I told you to arrest Pastor Murray.”
I start to correct her, but I let it go.
“Look,” she says, “I do recognize the effort you’ve put into this case. Without it, we wouldn’t have found the killer, but it doesn’t excuse the fact you failed to arrest him for murder.”
“I didn’t bring him in because I didn’t have enough evidence. His handwriting didn’t match the parchment.”
“But you had his fingerprints on the nondisclosure agreement.”
“His prints were on there because he threw it away, and the baseball bat you claimed he took from the homeless woman at the Hyde-Chapman Station wasn’t the same baseball bat. I found that one in a pile of stuff that came from Finley Price’s apartment. Finley Price almost took my head off with it when I first made the death notification. I even sent it to forensics to test for blood. It came back clean.”
“I know it’s not the murder weapon. I read your case files, but what I was trying to do was push Pastor Murray into a confession. If he thought we had him good on the charges, he would be willing to talk.”
“You’re wrong about him. He has nothing to confess. He’s innocent.”
“As far as I’m concerned, he’s not.”
“I know what you’re doing. You’re ruining that man’s life to save yours. You can’t do that.”
“Are you accusing me of corruption, Detective Kipling?”
Trying to do the right thing is the scariest thing in the world. If I continue on this road, I’ll be the one fired for insubordination. She might even pin corruption on me too. I back off, look away, reconsider another angle, but I know I’ve overstepped too far to even reach middle ground.
“The fingerprints on the last page of the nondisclosure agreement put the priest at the scene of the crime, and when it comes to his alibi, there’s no one to confirm where he was that night. He’s the killer, Detective Kipling. This case is over.”
“Will you let me, at least, talk to him?”
“Why? So you can help him beat the charges? Not going to happen. The case is solved. No more questio
ns. Pastor Murray is under arrest for murder, and he will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.” DS Green walks out, leaving Sam and me in the viewing room.
I can’t believe she’s willing to ruin the life of a priest to save her own. Her tactics are rotten to the core, and I’ve lost complete respect for her as a police officer.
What can I do now? Continue the investigation, or let the court system decide Pastor Murray’s fate? I genuinely believe he’s innocent, despite what DS Green says. Maybe, I can go back to the university and speak to Professor Dawson’s class. There could be one individual that has all the answers I need to solve this case. I have to keep trying. As long as I’m a detective, I must.
Chapter Thirty-Seven.
“I hate being wishy-washy,” Sam says as we walk to the squad car, “but I believe Pastor Murray didn’t kill Ruby.”
“There’s nothing to believe. It’s true. He didn’t kill her.”
“What are we going to do now?”
“Wait for Ruby’s class to start.”
“Why are we doing that?”
“I want to speak to her classmates. With all of the students in one spot, I can save a lot of time and speak to them while they’re all there.”
“You heard what Green said. The case is over.”
“Yeah, I heard her, but until I’m no longer officially assigned to this case, I’m going to continue to work it. You know, you don’t have to do this. I could lose my job for not following orders. I don’t want you to go down with me.”
“We’re partners, and we’re in this together.”
“But you think Pastor Murray is guilty. You agree with Green.”
“Not anymore. Wishy-washy, remember? I’m with you, Victoria. We’re going to see this as far as it goes.”
“Thank you for staying with me on this, Sam. I understand how risky this is for you, and I don’t take it lightly.”
“You’re welcome.” We get in the car and set off for Exeter City Centre.
“So,” he says, “you think Professor Dawson is going to let you take over her class?”
“I’m just going to ask them if anyone knew Ruby. If anyone speaks up, then I’ll pull them outside and ask them a few questions.”
“Her class was large this morning. The one that Ruby was in could be bigger, and honestly, Ruby probably didn’t know any of those kids. You think it’s worth trying?”
“Yes, or I wouldn’t be going back to the university. I could find her killer in that class. He might be trying to get the same degree and get the same job. She could be…his…competition.” All of a sudden, I realize I missed a possible lead. “What was I thinking? How come I didn’t ask her.”
“Ask who what?”
“Sam, do you remember if I asked Georgia for a list of people who applied for the construction inspector position?”
“No, you asked for the list of people who had the position within the past ten years.”
“I need to go back to Hunt Projects.”
“Call her. Have Georgia send the list to you in email. It’s quicker.”
“That is a great idea.”
I take out my IET and search for Hunt Projects number. It’s easy to find, first option on the search engine page. I call, but after going through an irritating automated menu, I only get through to a receptionist. I don’t remember seeing one the many times I’ve visited, but she answers the phone. I announce who I am and ask to speak with Georgia. Within seconds, I’m put through.
“Hello, Detective Kipling, no unannounced visit this time?” she answers with amusement.
“Yeah, no, sorry.”
“It’s quite alright. I was joking. How can I help you?”
“I need you to send me your applicant list for the construction inspector position.”
“What’s your email?”
I give her the information.
“I’ll send it to you shortly. I’m out getting a cup of coffee. Midafternoon energy.”
“I thought you were in your office?”
“My desk phone is forwarded to my cell. If I’m not available to answer my calls, things tend to fall apart in Hunt Projects.”
“Oh, okay. Well, I’ll be looking forward to your email today.”
“You’ll have it within the hour.”
“Thank you, Georgia.” I hang up and look at the case file number.
There’s an update. It’s showing that it’s pending charges. I open it up. It indicates that the Sovereign Prosecution Service will hear the case tomorrow at eleven in the morning. DS Green will be presenting the evidence to the Sovereign Advocate.
She’s moving at light speed, but I must move faster. Honestly, I have a feeling that what I’m doing is for nothing. DS Green is going to get the charges for Pastor Murray, and when she finds out I’m still working this case, and she will, she’s going to either fire me or demote me.
Well, until then, I will do my job.
Chapter Thirty-Eight.
When we get on campus, Sam and I take up space at a table in the park near the basin. It’s a little chilly for my taste, but it is a beautiful day.
We’re waiting for Ruby’s class to start. It’ll be in another hour. I’ve already contacted Professor Dawson, and she’s okay with me speaking to her students. Despite my rude introduction in class, I made a good impression on her. I think she wants to talk to me again about my tribe, but after today, I won’t have any more contact with her.
My IET buzzes an incoming email. I figure it must be from Georgia, but it’s the call records from Bensington Construction site, Ruby’s employer. The phone numbers show a plethora of calls, all of them were from businesses, but none of them from Hunt Projects. Ruby must have made all of her personal calls on her cell. The business phone is a dead end.
“You alright,” Sam asks.
“Yeah,” I sigh. “I got a question.”
“Okay.”
“Do you think Green would try to get my citizenship revoked?”
Sam frowns with confusion. “Why would she do that?”
“To get back at me for not following orders. She already threatened my job because she thinks I’m going to tell her secret.”
“She doesn’t have that much power.”
“She’s a detective sergeant. She has some kind of pull.”
“Victoria, you’re worried about nothing. Losing your job is one thing. Losing your citizenship is entirely different. She won’t do it, and she can’t. She has no control over who stays and who goes.”
“You think so?”
“I’m positive. The people that handle citizenship don’t listen to cops. They do what they do based on whatever criteria they follow. Furthermore, if they were going to kick you out of the country, they would make a surprise visit to your house.”
“How do you know?”
“I’ve been on a few calls.”
“Did you remove people from their homes?”
“No, the evictors did that. I’m not sure if that’s what you call them, but that’s what I call them. I was there to guard the scene, you can sort of say, to make sure the neighbors and family didn’t interfere. It can get ugly sometimes. Once I was asked to go with the evictors to this old rundown house. Windows were broken in. Part of the roof was collapsed, but someone was living there, a middle-aged woman with a drug problem. She’d been arrested countless times by local law enforcement since her arrival in the BEAC. The government wanted her shipped back to wherever she came from. When the evictors went to apprehend her, they found her in the tub. She’d slit her wrists. Dead for days.”
“That’s horrible,” I remark. “Why didn’t the government reach out to her first and try to help her? They could have saved her.”
“Your guess is as good as mine, but it’s been this way for decades.”
“Obviously, she was sick.”
“Yeah, but the government doesn’t care. To them, she broke the law.”
My IET buzzes again, and I reply, “I don’
t want to talk about the government, citizenship, and citizen auditors anymore. More problems I rather not deal with.”
“I don’t blame you.”
I check the notification on the IET, finding the email from Georgia.
“She finally sent the list,” I reply, “and she did me a solid. She sent the applications too. Let’s see who we…”
All of a sudden, I’m stumped and confused. I reread the familiar name second on the list and all the others as well.
“What are you looking at?” Sam asks.
“I know someone on this list, but I don’t understand why he would be trying for the job at Hunt Projects?”
“Who is it?”
Sam comes around the table. He squints at the list and shrugs his shoulders. “I don’t see a problem,” he says.
I lift my hand, not wanting him to say another word. I have to think this through. Is it possible that the man on this list, the man I’ve known for a while, could be the person who killed Ruby Taylor? My mind goes back to the video footage at Hyde-Chapman Park Station to the man in the coat. He squeezes his hands into fists. He slaps the homeless woman. He takes her baseball bat. Every single mannerism fits. His build and his gait are similar.
It is him.
“Sam, we have to leave the campus, and can you call Robinson for me please?”
“Sure, but where are we going?”
Chapter Thirty-Nine.
I’m standing outside of Mum and Dad’s office. I try the knob and push the door open. The space is crowded with very little room to walk through. Boxes are piled in one corner. In between knick-knacks and little statuettes, books are sideways on the shelves. On the desk, peeking out from under a satchel are sheets of parchment paper. My heart sinks as I pull them out. The paper is an exact match to the one used by the killer. There’s a coffee ring in the same spot as well, but the mark is fainter. No signs of blood are on the desk. If so, Dad could have wiped it clean.
I look around the office, but then I refocus on the satchel. It’s big enough to hold paperwork. I open it up and find the nondisclosure agreement with Ruby’s name on it for Hunt Projects construction inspector. Why would Dad keep one of the most damning evidence that would link him to the murder of Ruby Taylor?
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