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“Church Blood”

  Robert C. Waggoner

  Copyright by Robert C. Waggoner 2012

  Novella

  R. C. Waggoner

  2012

  “Church Blood”

  “Death Waits at the Church”

  Chapter I

  It was close to the witching hour, as he stood in the shadows of the big maple tree watching the front door of the church. As soon as the light went out over the door he would make his move. This was not a well made plan, but more of a spur of the moment thing. He realized if he was normal, he’d never think of committing the murder that was about to unfold.

  The light went out and Steve Langley moved quickly and quietly to the side door where Pastor Luke would emerge very soon. As if on cue, Pastor Luke came out, closed the door and turned to lock it. As soon as he turned, Steve buried his Rambo knife in Pastor Luke’s back perfectly centered to reach the heart.

  Letting Pastor Luke down gently, as if to not hurt him, Steve pulled out the knife rolled him over and deftly castrated him. The message was clear: this man was a child molester hiding behind a white collar.

  Pastor Luke was found the next morning by Beatrice [Bee] Woods who volunteered her services to clean and dust after Sunday night’s service on Mondays. She was found crumpled on the ground having determined the good Pastor Luke was murdered. She might have withstood the murder, but having taken a closer look between his legs, saw all of his private parts were missing. That was too much for her to stomach and she feinted dead away.

  A passer by noticed the two bodies lying near the side door of the church and rightfully called 911 on his cell.

  Detective Moss Adams, a true veteran on the city police force, stood about ten feet away staring at the murder victim. It wasn’t because he was afraid of viewing the body, but it was just his style to not be so close he couldn’t see the forest from the trees. His partner, Stu Williams, was due to retire at the end of this year. As a matter of fact, both should retire. However, the chief always convinced both to stay on for another year. His excuse was the new detectives were long on book learning, but short on common sense. Homicide took a special person to find a killer and that wasn’t something you developed over night.

  Moss carefully watched his partner Stu examine the body. At the same time, he scanned the crowd to see if any suspicious looking person was watching the police work. He saw nothing out of the ordinary. Stu walked up and said, “Same MO Moss as the other two victims. I really doubt this is a copycat, but the real deal. This Perp has a real hard on for preachers. No pun intended.” Moss knew Stu wasn’t trying to be funny, it just happened to come out that way.

  Moss looked at his silver haired partner who had a clear drip of cold weather snot hanging on the end of his nose. Moss reached up subconsciously to wipe his nose hoping Stu would take the hint. However, with a full moustache, Stu would let the drip fall where it may and at some point in time, he would wipe his nose and what lie underneath it with a clean handkerchief, complements of his ever faithful wife, which Moss envied.

  Moss had married young and, sadly, she died young. Now pushing the hard side of his fifth decade, he rather doubted marriage was in his future. He wasn’t a bad looking man, as a matter of fact, some said he was rather handsome in an old fashion way. Except for a little paunch, he was still rather well built on a solid six foot frame. Stu, on the other hand was rail thin and had a little of the Napoleon Syndrome.

  Moss said, with his hands buried in his overcoat pockets, “Stu, we really need some help on this case. Three clergymen murdered and defiled have brought the city fathers looking for someone’s head to blame the lack of a suspect on. We have virtually nothing to go on. This killer always walks on the sidewalk and never leaves a footprint.”

  Stu peeled off his latex gloves, dug out his handkerchief, wiped his nose then his gave his moustache a nice cleaning while staring off at the medical examiner car arriving. “You know Moss, you and I’ve been doing this crap for so many years its not even funny anymore, not to suggest, humorous, but we really need to catch a break and like in the past, one will come along. We just need to work harder is all.”

  Moss followed, with his grey eyes, the medical examiner as she made her way forcefully through the ever increasing crowd of on lookers. Hot on her tail was the cities number one investigative reporter, Miles Milner. Miles took every opportunity to further his position by following the medical examiner through the police tapes as if he were her assistant. Moss smiled as he and Miles were long time friends. In the beginning that was truly not the case as Moss resented his every present interference. But over the years, a common ground was discovered and a relationship blossomed.

  A uniformed policeman looked at Moss for permission to let Miles through the tape, Moss nodded and Miles, breathless, hurried to the side of the two detectives. Miles looked up at Moss as if to see if there was any promising lead, but when Moss shook his head, no conversation resulted. All three waited in silence for the medical examiner to finish her business.

  Moss looked up at the cloud laden sky so grey it matched both his mood and eyes. For November, it was unusually cold with a threat of snow it seemed to him. He wondered, what is the killer doing about now?

  ***

  Steve was holed up in a low rent district at a hotel that rented rooms by the month. He was watching an old black and white rerun of Amos and Andy while lying on the saggy bed. On his chest a laptop rested waiting for him to turn it on. He closed his eyes and went into dream land.

  Two hours later his cell phone vibrated in his pocket waking him up. Without a lot of effort he dug out the phone and placed it his ear knowing full well who was calling. The caller asked, “Did you do your job Steve? I don’t see anything on the news about any recent homicide. You didn’t get cold feet, now did you?”

  Steve hated the gravely voice. Obviously it was altered to not resemble the actual voice, not that Steve really cared one way or the other. Steve said, “Of course I did my job. It’s not my fault the media has not run the story. Maybe the next one I’ll drag to the newspaper’s front door. Now I’m waiting for the bag man to bring me a sack full of green. Also, the next one is going to cost more as the stakes are being raised one by one.”

  Heavy breathing could be heard and then a voice said, “We’ll increase twenty percent and the next contract is waiting on your computer for attention.”

  Steve put the cell away in his pocket and booted up his laptop. Opening up his e-mail he discovered his next target was a bishop of the local diocese. He raised one eyebrow and thought that this hit would be a little high profile and that he’d best leave town after this one.

  Chapter II

  Moss, Stu and Milo sat in a dreary coffee shop sipping coffee that should have been thrown out after the morning rush. All three men were used to being given the dregs both with coffee and society. It came with the territory. Moss gave off a sigh and said, “Milo, this is the third one, as you well know. A fourth is just around the corner. I never asked anyone how many churches there are in this city, but no way can we cover all of them. I’m suggesting you print an article that no clergyman is alone at any time of day or night.”

  Milo scratched his head releasing a small flurry of white stuff. Stu, reached for a napkin to once again do a number on his every dripping nose. “I can surely write the article Moss, but how many will adhere to your suggestion is questionable,” he answered.

  Moss said, “Stu, you’ve any ideas? If my math is correct, every five days this guy commits murder. I realize there is a question of child abuse, but that still doesn’t give the guy any excuse to take a life. Frankly, it makes me a bit sick. Maybe guys I’m just getting old and fed up with trying to stop or solve a murder case. Right now the captai
n is looking for me to give him some hope that I can’t provide.”

  “Moss,” Miles said, “we have a young guy at the newspaper who keeps bugging me to let him do some real investigative work. What do you suggest I give him to aid in this investigation?”

  Stu said, “Have him research all the current heads of the churches here in the city to find any pedophiles that we may have missed.” He reached into his pocket for a notebook, slowly put on his half glasses and read out loud, “First we had a Baptist minister, then a Presbyterian minister and the last one was a Pastor of a Methodist church. My guess the next one will be Catholic. I base this on absolutely no basis of fact, but pure speculation.”

  Moss sat in quiet reflection of his attempt to find God and learn more about this son of God, Jesus Christ. His mother passed on from old age and he remembered that the housekeeper had told him she died with her bible lying across her chest. She’d never pushed the church on her two kids. It was up to each to decide as both her sons were well educated and smart.

  Moss failed at giving religion a good shot, but his younger brother married a southern lady who was and still is deeply religious. Now he wondered when the last time he talked to his younger brother. Thanksgiving was coming and maybe he would give him a call.

  “Moss, are you still with us or off in some dream land of more pleasant things to think about than church leaders being murdered,” Stu asked.

  “Sorry guys, just a flash back on a subject that bothered me years ago, but really has no relevance with today’s serial killer. I need to go back to the station and face the music. Next thing we know the governor will enter the case.”

  Miles was left with the tab, but the tip he left was more than the coffee. Actually, the taste that was left in Mile’s mouth, after leaving a shocking tip, was much better than the coffee.

  Back at the station house, Moss and Stu tried to go to their respective desks in homicide. However, they both were summoned by a uniform to proceed directly to the captain’s office. Moss looked at his watch seeing it was a quarter to twelve and hopefully the captain would go to lunch at his regular time: noon.

  A brief knock on the captains door brought forth a grouchy enter command. Inside the office the mayor and the homicide lieutenant sat around a small conference table. Both Moss and Stu found chairs and sat side by side facing the conference table. Both the lieutenant and mayor had to turn sideways to face the two detectives. Captain Lewis said, “Moss I really hope you have something good to report. As you can see the heat is on and I’m not going to take all the heat without some of it passing off to our two veteran homicide detectives.”

  “I wish I had some good news captain, but we’re no closer now than after the first church murder. Either this guy is very, very good, or he is being lucky to have not left us one clue,” said Moss.

  “Detective Moss, said Mayor Vance Smith, “are you saying after three murders you have no one single clue or some tangible path to follow up on?”

  “That’s exactly correct Mayor Smith. There have been no witnesses, fingerprints, shoeprints, or any trace of a person hanging around waiting for his victim to lay waste to. The only thing we know is that he is using a Rambo type knife and it’s with some added strength that he uses to stab the victim. From that we presume the Perp is a male of some physical stoutness.”

  “I’m getting calls from every church in the city and area,” said Mayor Smith. “They’re all asking for protection. Have you any idea how many churches there’re in this city?”

  Milo answered, “As a matter of fact I do know how many churches there’re in this city and it would be impossible to provide protection to all of them. Stu here thinks it’s time for a Catholic person who would be next on the killer’s list. The downside of that is, if the killer sees some or any protection would he not just pass and move on to the next one?”

  “We are fairly confident he is targeting pedophiles and let’s concentrate on the Catholic side of that equation,” said Lieutenant Robin White.

  Moss didn’t much like his superior Robin White. Not that he was such a bad guy, but he hated a kiss ass whose goal was to climb to the top over whatever bodies lie in his way. Moss knew of two bodies he would never crawl over and both were sitting in the room side by side.

  Stu heard his partner’s stomach growl and realized neither one of them probably had breakfast or had eaten anything since last night.

  As if on cue, Captain Lewis said, “Okay detectives, we have a press conference at five pm. Moss I want you to be there with us as a look of solidarity is focusing on the awful crimes that have been committed. Now let’s go to lunch.”

  After a hearty lunch of soup and sandwich, Moss and Stu went to Pastor Luke’s residence. As they drove up and parked, the fingerprint team was just leaving. Small flakes of snow began to fall. Pastor Luke’s small house was just a stones throw behind the church. Moss stood and admired the clean look of the yard and around the small house. Few leaves had fallen yet and it still gave off a homey feeling. A uniform was standing on the small porch doing his boring job of keeping out the curious and greedy.

  Moss gave him a small smile and friendly greeting. Stu never batted an eye. Moss liked to keep on good terms with everyone if he could. Inside the door the place smelled like lemon wax mixed with incense. Moss looked around as he was standing just inside the front door, but in the living room. Cozy came to mind, as he saw the well used rocking chair and small sofa gathered around a rather small fireplace. The short and narrow mantel held stand up pictures of various people and places. The walls looked like a garage sale of old prints on a flowered wall paper. Like many old houses, light was hard to come by. Small windows and heavy curtains were the norm.

  Both Stu and Moss wanted to see where Pastor Luke did his work. Passing down the hall which on the backside of the living room was the kitchen, both men turned at the first door which looked the most traveled on a thread bare carpet. Inside the small room was a desk of some vintage and an old desk top computer full of fingerprint dust. A secretary’s chair sat in front of the desk which was placed in front of the small window for best of light.

  On the wall next to the desk an old green filing cabinet that had seen better days waited for Stu to investigate. Moss sat at the desk and slowly went from drawer to drawer looking for anything that might lead to a clue to Luke’s killer. The sounds of paper being looked at and the slamming of stuck drawers was all that was heard for thirty minutes. Moss was having trouble with the bottom desk drawer as he pulled with force yanking the drawer open and it finally rested on the floor with the back of the drawer and one side disconnected from the once solid drawer. Old bank books and statements littered the floor.

  Moss swore under his breath and lifted the remaining parts onto the top of the desk. In doing so, he noticed a large manila envelope taped to the bottom of the drawer. He had his latex gloves on and with his pocket knife, gently sliced the tape away. The flap was sealed but Moss deftly cut the envelope open. He cleared a space on the desk and from the large envelope out came a stack of black and white pictures.

  By now Stu had glanced over and saw what Moss had found. He stood over Moss as Moss used a pencil with an eraser to look through photos of child pornography. No words were needed by either man. Both were sickened by the sight before their eyes. This was their first real evidence that the clergy were being targeted for being pedophiles.

  Questions raced through both men’s heads. Was this a revenge of a family member or was this something bigger than what they imagined was being orchestrated. Stu felt that it was one mans vendetta and as Stu had found a kitchen chair to sit on, they kicked the idea around for awhile. Moss thought it was too well organized and a group, gang or whatever was responsible.

  Moss asked, “Did you find anything interesting in the file cabinet?”

  “No but I’m going to check out the bottom of the drawers and not leave anything to chance. Also I’m going to pack up that CPU for the hot shot computer gu
ys to see if there are any more secrets the good pastor possessed.”

  Chapter III

  Bishop Megi Costoni had never once feared for his life until word of the latest serial killers murder of Pastor Luke. He didn’t know Pastor Luke, but felt in his body that this serial killer was targeting pedophiles. As much as he hated to admit it, he was one.

  Now as he sat at his desk, doodling on a legal pad, he wondered what he could do to leave town for awhile. However he was chosen as the guest speaker in five days time to address a gathering of potential priests from a local seminary. There simply was no way he could dodge this one. One thing he promised himself was to vary his schedule and not be predictable.

  Tonight he was scheduled for dinner with the cities Mayor and the city council. The mayor was keen to purchase an empty lot across from St. Michael’s church for transition into a park. Of course the park would have the mayor name on it.

  Bishop Costoni went up to his room to change into something a little more formal. His suits came from his beloved Italy along with his shoes and shirts. All were custom tailored just for him. His family dated back many generations of olive growers and he liked to show off whenever he could.

  He had an hour to get ready so he took a long shower and a fresh shave. He wore a dark grey suit with his white collar. A striking off shade of violet and white silk shirt made him look more like a vendor than that of a priest.

  As he descended the wooden stair case he noticed how dark it was outside. Well, winter is coming he said to no one as he pulled on his cashmere over coat. He securely locked the front door and walked to the side where his car waited. As he opened the door of his car, he felt a nagging pain suddenly in his back. His knees got weak and someone let him down easy to the cement driveway. By the time he was let down to the driveway, Bishop Costoni, fifty two, was lifeless.

  Quickly but not in a big hurry, Steve did as he was instructed and deftly castrated the bishop placing the private parts in his mouth. Steve cleaned his knife off using the custom suit and silently left the scene. That was two hits in one day, he thought. Time for me to hit the road he thought as he smiled wondering what the cops would think now with two dead clergymen in one day.