FRANKS, Bill (28 page)

   ‘This is it,’ thought Ignatious. ‘My Maker will receive me.’  A strange calm overtook him; he was prepared.

   Suddenly, the Elder appeared through the gathering and confronted the doomed priest
.
“You have suffered punishment by witnessing the torture and death of your companions,” he began. “You are to die but not this day
.
As the sun will rise tomorrow, you will be put to death by injection of a poison unknown to you and your world
.
In deference to the good work you have done here, you will leave without pain and quickly
.
Your body will then be burned in accordance with our customs and you, unlike your friends, will be accorded the assistance to your destination of the Colibri – the humming bird feathers.”  He then signalled to Karakta to bring food, drink and oils, instructing him to clean up the condemned man and give him nourishment.

   “Farewell, young man,” he said to Ignatious, “and may you sit in peace with your God.”  With that, he left.

   The crowd began to disperse, leaving behind Karakta and two others
.
Ignoring Ignatious, Karakta went about his duties, bringing forward a rough, timber table upon which the others placed one of the compressed-air hypodermics and a liquid solution
.
This was the poison that was to be used on Ignatious and it was contained in a flask made from hardened animal skin
.
Ignatious absently noted that there would be far too much in the flask for the one dosage but, he reasoned, it was probably the entire stock carried
.
The tribes-people were able to produce the poison in any quantity from the local vegetation, so there would be no lack of supply.

   Finally, having completed his task, Karakta turned to his one time friend
.
“G
awain, my friend
.
I am truly sorry about this; it is beyond my control
.
I am not allowed to even speak with you and my heart hurts at your present situation
.
I take a great risk in speaking with you now and I must leave quickly
.
I want to tell you before I go, that our friendship was of great value to me and it will remain with me until I die
.
I wish you good fortune in your next life.”  A tear trickled down the face of the troubled Incuda, as he took one last, lingering look at Ignatious, before moving swiftly away to his dwelling.

   Left alone, bound to the pole, Ignatious also shed a tear as the evening turned into night, stars beginning to twinkle in the clear skies
.
The ever-present sounds of jungle animals diminished to the odd roar or growl, with an occasional shriek from some unknown breed of monkey or bird
.
The night was warm and Ignatious settled to his prayer, dozing as far as his position would allow, his spirit now calm and prepared for the coming audience with his Creator.

   Ignatious came from his sleep, his brain befuddled with the events of the dream
.
Slowly, order settled and he sat up
.
Putting his hands to his face, he wiped away the wetness covering his cheeks, emanating from the tears that had flowed freely in the night
.
He looked at the clock on the wall at the foot of his bed
.
It showed 7am.

The pleasant warbling of the telephone next to Sallie’s bed in the hotel,

awoke Graham first
.
He was pleased to feel the sensation of arousal as he cuddled into the soft, warm body of his lover, an arm wrapped around her as she lay facing away from him
.
A smile crept onto his unshaven face and he began to let his hand explore the firm delights of her body
.
Sallie grunted, a comforting, satisfied grunt, as she pushed herself to the protrusion nudging against her.

   The couple lay for several minutes, Graham entertaining thoughts of gentle love-making as a prelude to breakfast, and then he realised the phone was still ringing
.
Of course
.
  The morning call
.

   To reach the telephone, it was necessary for him to roll across Sallie’s body and, his leg straddling her, he was half tempted to ignore the infernal machine and surrender to his temptation
.
However, sense prevailed and he took the call, thanking the exuberant Landlord and apologising for the delay
.
“Better things to do
?
” came the chuckled reply, full of knowing innuendo
.
Why else would he telephone Sallie’s room?

   Replacing the
instrument
, Graham began to return to his side of the bed
.
As he rolled back over Sallie’s body, intentionally pressing to her, she opened her eyes
.
They were soft and dreamy, hitting at his sexual senses like a sledgehammer. He paused.
T o hell with duty – let’s get at it!
  However, exercising great restraint, he tumbled from the bed and stood, stretching.

   Two wide and beautiful eyes watched him, admiring the muscular body with its unconcealed desire proudly displayed
.
She longed to drag him back in and smother him with her lust
.
However, somewhere at the back of her mind, she realised that as he was out of bed, despite his condition, duty must prevail
.
She sat up
.
“Good morning, sir
.
And who are you?” she said, playfully.

   Graham spun around to face her
.
“Ah, so you’re awake at last!” he joked
.
“Sorry you see me in such a state,” smiling down at his undying projection.

   “I’m not at all sorry,” Sallie replied
.
“Do we have time to cure your ailment?”

   Graham shrugged his shoulders, an apologetic expression on his face
.
“Wish we did have, but duty, unfortunately, calls.”  Blowing Sallie a kiss, he went to the bathroom.

   By nine o’ clock, Graham and Sallie were with George Flint in his office, drinking coffee
.
“Do we have an identification, yet, George?” opened Graham.

   “Yes, we do
.
And it’s something of a surprise,” replied George, grim-faced
.
“He was identified as Thomas Singleton, father of the murdered girl, Debbie!”

    For a few moments Graham did not speak, the news shocking him
.
His mind worked furiously
.
Once more, a connection with the Jesuit
.
How much of a coincidence is this?
he thought. “Why would he kill him?” he said aloud, staring into space, his brain fitting facts into place
.
“What
is
the connection?”

   “Who are you talking about, Graham?” asked George
.
“We can only answer your questions when we have a positive ID.”

   Graham shifted in his seat. “The Jesuit
.
That’s who I’m talking about.” he said, quietly. “That man
is
involved in these murders
.
I don’t yet know how – or why, but he is too closely linked with every murder.”

   The others looked at him in silence
.
Neither could believe that a man of God, a man with the aura of th
is particular
Jesuit, could be in any way involved in such terrible crimes
.

Sallie spoke, softly
.
“Graham
.
Just think about it, will you?  You are accusing a Jesuit priest; a man dedicated to helping ease the suffering of others
.
”
Come to me now, you bastard priest!
“
Do you not think his involvement is purely that of a man carrying out his duties?  He appears where there is suffering and, as he told us yesterday, he is specifically targeting those who are suffering the effects of a murder, or suicide in the family.”

   Graham accepted the sense of Sallie’s words but, none-the-less, he had an uneasy feeling about it
.
“Well, perhaps I am on the wrong track but I can’t help feeling there is something about the killings that points to him.”  He paused
.
“Before we go back, Sallie, I’d like another word with the Jesuit.” Then, turning to George, he asked: “Where is he now?”

   “Don’t know I’m afraid.”

   “What?”

   For what reason, I can’t say, but I had a constable check on his motor home this morning - and he’d gone
.
Wasn’t to be seen anywhere in the vicinity or in the village.”

   Graham stared at George, absorbing the news
.
“Did no one see him go.”

   “No
.
He parks on country roads, so it’s unlikely that anyone would see him
.
May notice his vehicle but that’ all.”

   “We’ll find him okay
.
When the next murder occurs,” said Graham, sourly
.
“Come on, Sallie
.
Time to get back to the Met.”

   Sallie remained seated as Graham rose to go
.
“No, Graham
.
I can’t come back, I’ve work to do here.”

   Graham looked at Sallie in surprise. “Work to do?”

   “Yes
.
The body will be removed to the local hospital and I will carry out my autopsy on it
.
I have all my equipment with me, so I may as well complete the job whilst I’m here.”

   “What about transport back, though, Sallie?  We came in my car.”

   Sallie smiled
.
“I can get the train
.
I’m quite capable of that, you know.”

   Graham smiled back
.
Of course she could catch the train
.
He just didn’t want to be apart from her at this moment, the pleasure of the previous night and the warmth of the morning encounter still fresh with him.

   “Okay, Sallie
.
You’re right, of course.”  Then, businesslike again: “Let me have your report as soon as possible, please.”

  As he stood and prepared to leave, he addressed George Flint:  “Keep me in touch, George, especially if there’s a sighting of the good Brother.” The last bit said with undisguised distaste
.
“I’ll contact you again when I get Sallie’s autopsy report.”

   George rose and shook hands, bidding him goodbye.

The sun shone from a clear, blue sky, beating down on the earth below
.
Those who weren’t engaged in employment occupied themselves in their different ways
.
Some, finding the recent hot weather too much, preferred to remain indoors, curtains partly drawn to keep out the burning rays, windows opened to the full
.
Others simply lazed around the garden, increasing the depth of their sun-tans whilst others, still, enjoyed trips to the seaside or countryside
.
Three in the afternoon and only the young felt energetic.

   Thirteen-year old Emma Fairweather had gone on a bicycle ride with two of her school pals; Gerry Parkinson a lad of the same age who fancied her
like mad
, Carol Gracewell, another thirteen-year old and Candice Moreton, a friend seven months senior to Emma.

   Pedalling along a pleasant country lane on their way home, they passed a motor home parked at the side of the road in a naturally formed lay by
.
Immediately following that, a sharp bend appeared in the lane and the pals had to brake hard to negotiate it
.
The road then led into a long decline, with gentle bends allowing the cyclists to ‘free-wheel’ the rest of the way down.

   Unfortunately, Emma was a little late in braking as she passed the motor home and she lost control, wavering and skidding into the soft, thick bushes that lined the lane, saving her from injury
.
The accident went unnoticed by her two friends as they were ahead of Emma at the curve and, having steered their bikes safely, were able to move away and enjoy the rush of air into their faces as the cycles picked up speed.

   Emma sat up, a little dazed but effectively unhurt
.
She checked for bruises and cuts and was pleased to find there were none of any note
.
However, looking at her bike, which had landed a few feet from her, she was horrified to see that the front wheel had buckled from the impact with the low banking
.
Not relishing the long walk home, she hoped against hope that her pals would soon realise she was no longer with them and return.