A Prayer for the Devil (16 page)

WHILE LUKE AND DEBORAH
were saying good-bye to the guests, the two homeless men walked outside to check on their bicycle. When Luke saw the lieutenant governor’s driver taking pictures of the crowd, he hurried over to where Lori was standing. “Can you please make him stop?”

Turning around to see who Luke was talking about, she was horrified. Her high heels clicked loudly on the pavement as she ran to her husband and yelled, “This is not an effing photo op.” She pointed at the driver. “Make him stop now!” Richard, who Luke was now mentally calling “Dick,” strolled over while talking on his cell phone and whispered something to the man. He snapped a few more shots, then put the camera into the car and opened the door. Still talking on his phone, “Dick” waved to everyone and disappeared into the backseat. Lori apologized to Deborah and Luke. Before Lori left, Deborah said, “Please know you’re always welcome here. I’ll call you tonight.” Luke wondered if there was a hidden message in that statement. They hugged each other, and Lori hugged Luke before getting into the car.

As the dinner guests began walking through the gates to their cars, Luke heard several of them comment that “this was the best
Thanksgiving ever.” He smiled. When everyone had gone, the gates closed, and they returned to the house. Luke, John, and Blade walked into the library while Deb, Luke’s parents, and the children headed for the family room.

The two men sat on the leather couch. Luke immediately dragged a chair in front of them. Getting right to the point, he said, “Blade, you told John that you have information regarding the bombing in the park. What is it?”

The man looked around the room and replied, “I do.”

When he didn’t continue, Luke gently prodded, “Can you tell me what you know?”

Blade looked at John, who said, “He wants to know how much money you are going to give him for the information.”

Blade interjected, “I’m not being ungrateful for what you’ve already done for us. Most people would have never invited us in, fed us, and gave us clothing.” Motioning with an open hand, he continued, “But we don’t live like this, Father.”

John chimed in. “Father Luke, I just want you to know, I don’t want any money. You’ve done enough for me already.”

This didn’t deter Blade. “I’ve been living on the streets for over fifteen years. This is my one chance to help myself.”

Not knowing what to expect, Luke asked, “How much do you want?”

Looking directly at Luke, he answered, “Two thousand dollars.”

Relieved, Luke smiled. “How about we make it five?”

Blade frowned. “Five hundred?”

“No, five thousand.”

The two homeless men looked at each other in disbelief. Luke extended his hand and Blade shook it.

“So tell me what you know.”

Blade looked down and said, “I will, as soon as you pay me.”

Disappointed, Luke said, “I don’t have the money on me right now and the banks are closed.”

“I’m sorry, but living on the street has taught me one very important lesson: Don’t trust anyone.”

Panicked that he might lose his opportunity, Luke asked, “Can you stay here tonight? First thing in the morning we can go to the bank and I’ll get you the cash.”

“Believe me, I promise to meet you in the morning at the fountain. I have someone who’s waiting for me now.”

John added, “He has a girlfriend.”

“Well, let’s go get her. She can stay here too.”

“She would never do that. She’s very nervous around strangers. It took over two years before she would even talk to me.”

Luke wondered if Deborah had that much cash somewhere in the house, but he didn’t want to involve her. What if it turned out that Blade didn’t know anything? He wouldn’t want to get her hopes up. “Can I at least give you a ride back to town?”

“What about my bike?”

“You can leave it here, or we can put it in the trunk.”

“OK, let’s put it in the car.”

“Wait right here. I’ll be back.” Luke rushed off and returned a few minutes later with Deborah. She looked at John first. “Luke says you might consider staying with us tonight?” He nodded affirmatively. “That’s great.” Then she looked at Blade. Remembering his name, she said, “Franklyn, you’re also welcome to stay.”

He didn’t look directly at her but awkwardly replied, “Thank you, but I can’t.” She shook both of their hands. Before she left the room, Luke asked, “Do you mind if I take your SUV to drop Franklyn off? We need to put his bicycle in the back.”

Deb smiled. “Of course you can take it.”

Luke pulled the SUV out of the garage and into the front driveway. Within minutes, he and the two homeless men were driving toward the city. When they drew within a few blocks of the Common, Luke had an idea. He pulled the car over and said, “I’ll be right back.” He walked quickly toward the ATM machine, inserted his card, and requested the maximum cash withdrawal of five hundred dollars. Hurrying back, he climbed in the truck and handed the cash to Blade. “Here’s a down payment.” Trying to seal the deal, he continued, “When I see you tomorrow, I’ll have forty-five hundred dollars more.” For the first time, Blade smiled, exposing his decayed teeth. They unloaded the car and Luke reminded Blade, “I’ll meet you at ten o’clock by the fountain.”

Blade shook his hand and said, “Damn right you will.”

WAKING THE NEXT MORNING
, Luke walked into the basement gym to check on John. Even though it was still early, he had already showered and shaved, and he was sitting on an exercise bench reading the newspaper. When Luke approached, he looked up and said, “Thank you for letting me stay here.”

Luke smiled. “I don’t know why you wouldn’t sleep in one of the spare bedrooms upstairs.” He pointed to the stack of mats on the floor. “Were you comfortable?”

“That was the best night’s sleep I’ve had in months.” Changing the subject, he added, “You’re in the paper again today.”

Luke asked, exasperated, “For what now?”

“You should probably read it yourself.”

John flipped back several pages and handed the paper to Luke, who read the article while shaking his head in disbelief.

John asked, “Do you know this guy Sal?”

“Yes, his wife is a regular parishioner at my church.”

“Sounds like he’s connected, if you know what I mean. Did you ask him to have that abortion guy beaten up?”

Luke looked at him in horror. “Do you think I would do something like that?”

“No, but the article kind of says you did.”

Luke immediately took out his cell phone and called Sal’s number, not caring if it was too early in the morning. When Sal answered, he asked sharply, “What did you do?”

Sal calmly replied, “Father Luke, please listen to me, I can explain. After we talked at the restaurant, I asked a few of my men to visit Steve Hinkley, with specific instructions that he shouldn’t be harmed in any way. They were told to ask him a few questions regarding the bombing and nothing else. We never expected that he had anything to do with it but thought he might tell us what the feds said. After they arrived, he started shooting off his big mouth and became aggressive. When he poked his finger in my man’s chest the first time, he was warned. When he did it again, Anthony slapped him across the face. When Hinkley spit in his face, he lost his temper and beat him, telling Hinkley, ‘This is for Father Luke.’ I don’t know why he said it, but he did. I’m really sorry. The feds must have had him under surveillance. When they barged in and saw Hinkley bleeding on the floor, they arrested Anthony and Bobby. I don’t know who talked to the press, but it probably was Hinkley.”

Mortified, Luke said, “Please don’t do me any more favors. You’ve done enough.” Before Sal could respond, Luke hung up the phone.

Shaken, Luke looked at John and asked, “Want to take a ride with me?”

“Sure, where are we going?”

“To Massachusetts General.”

“For what?”

“To see how Steven Hinkley is doing.” Pointing to the door, Luke said, “I’ll meet you in the backyard in ten minutes.”

Confused, John asked, “The backyard?”

“Yes.”

Dressed in his priest clothes, Luke led John across the yard and over the wall. Soon they were driving to the west side of downtown Boston. Nearing the glass-faced building, Luke found a spot and parked the Mercedes on the street.

He knew this hospital well from the time he spent there visiting sick parishioners and distributing communion. He also knew that a priest could wander around the hospital without being questioned, similar to doctors. Entering the front door, he said to John, “Stay close.”

Luke walked up to an elderly volunteer at the front desk and said, “We’re here to see Steven Hinkley.”

The woman typed the name into her computer and said, “He’s in room 204, Father. Take the elevator around the—”

Luke politely interrupted her. “I know the way, thank you.”

Pausing outside the doorway of Hinkley’s room, Luke took a deep breath, looked at John, and said, “This should be interesting.”

Luke stepped inside and saw the patient lying in bed with his eyes closed while the television was on. He walked to the bedside as John hovered in the doorway. Watching the abortion activist breathe laboriously, Luke wondered, “What makes a person choose a life like this?” Noticing the patient’s black eyes and contusions, he felt sorry for him. He never would have said anything to Sal if he had known this man was going to suffer in any way. Deep in thought, Luke was startled when Hinkley’s eyes opened and he fumbled for the nurse’s call button. Retrieving it from under the sheets, he pressed it frantically. Not knowing what to do, Luke did nothing. A few minutes later, the nurse arrived. Expecting to be booted out of the hospital, he was surprised that Hinkley whispered to her, “I really need to go to the bathroom.” She helped him across the room, and when they returned, she got him
back into bed and left without saying a word. Recognizing Luke, Hinkley said, “Why are you here?”

“I wanted you to know that I had nothing to do with what happened to you.”

He smirked. “Yeah, right.”

“I’m a priest, and even though we have little in common, I would never want to see you hurt in any way.”

In an arrogant tone, Hinkley replied, “I had nothing to do with your brother’s murder. I want to be clear. I’m not sorry that he’s dead, but I had nothing to do with it.”

Luke was furious. The man’s blatant arrogance regarding Aaron’s death made his blood boil. Uncharacteristically, he grabbed Hinkley’s wrist and squeezed it as tight as he could. Realizing that he was about to lose control, just as he had with the abortion protester in Washington all those years ago, he quickly released his grip and rushed toward the door.

Laughing, Hinkley yelled, “In my book there’s a big difference between performing abortions and murder.”

Luke stopped and thought about the pain and regret this man had caused to so many confused young women when he turned to face him. “Not in mine.”

Before following Luke out the door, John entered the room and walked over to the bed. Looking down with his face an inch away from Hinkley’s, he said, “I want you to know you’re a real asshole.” Hinkley pressed the call button again.