Part One - Evil Times 3 - Chapter Three
The Twenty-Second Precinct
Saturday - May 15th - 6:07 a.m.
“Twenty-Second Precinct, Sargent McDaley, speaking.”
“Yes, this is Bishop Ekerson, at St. Peters church on Melrose and Tasker.”
“I know where it is, Father. My family and I are always there every Sunday. What can I do for you?’
“Bless you. I need to speak with someone about an important matter. Something that will cause me to break tradition. I spoke with a killer last night.”
McDaley went quiet for a moment.
“You spoke with a killer, Father? How? When?”
“He came to the church last night, and confessed to me he killed two people, that’s how.”
“Hold the line, Father. I’ll patch you into the lead investigator that is handling the case.”
“Thank you,” but by then, Bishop Ekerson was already on hold.
The line rang four times before he heard a woman’s voice.
“This is Baker. I understand you may have some information for me.” McDaley had briefed her on the call.
“Yes, I do. Last night inside one of the confessional booths here at St. Peters, shortly after ten, a man told me, confessed to me he had murdered two people, and was asking for forgiveness and absolution, which I could not give. I tried to explain his best course of action was prayer, and to turn himself in. He became angry, and said a few vile things, and left.”
“Bishop Ekerson, I will be there in ten minutes. Has there been anyone in the confession box since last night?”
“I would appreciate it if you would say confessional booth, not box; but no, no one other than myself. That’s why I called.”
“Please tell me you haven’t touched anything inside the booth. I’m going to have our forensic unit meet me there along with another detective.”
“I’ve not touched a thing except for the door’s handles. At first, I wasn’t going to call at all, thinking the man may have been playing a sick joke with me, but then I heard on the morning news about two untimely deaths. But it was also what I saw inside the confessional booth that made me break my vow of silence.
“Don’t touch anything else. I’ll be there in five minutes.”
Right after the Call
Baker and Stevie were about to go to breakfast before her conversation with Father Ekerson.
“I’m sorry, Stevie. Tell you what; we can do breakfast tomorrow morning, and tonight we can order pizza.”
“That’s cool mom. I’m good with it.” Then Stevie thought for a second.
“I figured it out, mom. The catholic butler did it, see? Case closed.”
She smiled, tousling his hair.
“I wish it were that simple, Stevie.”
“It will be mom. You always get the bad guy.”
“Your dad used to say the same thing.”
“I know. But I don’t think he buys into the whole cops and robbers thing like I do. I know it can be dangerous, even dull at times, you told me that. But you also told me that with patience comes an arrest, and with reason, a conviction.”
“My, my, aren’t we ever on top of things.”
“Just practicing is all.”
“Oh? Practicing for what?”
“To be a bad-butt lawyer!”
They both laughed.
Baker wondered just how much patience she would have.
St. Peter’s – 7:17 a.m.
Bloody footprints from the front doors all the way to and from the small confessional booth made for an easy trail. Size 10 work boots, guesstimated at the scene to perhaps have heavily inlaid rigid soles. Once Baker found this out, she started talking with Bishop Ekerson to establish a timeline.
“You said on the phone he was here somewhere around ten pm last night.”
“It was closer to 10:30. He was here perhaps ten or fifteen minutes before he bolted out of here.”
“Is the church usually open at such late hours? And are you always here during those hours?”
“The church never closes. That would be saying God’s heart is closed to all of his children. And yes, for the most part, I am always here. There is a small, one-bedroom unit, one floor below the church. There are steps that lead down to it from the Rectory Office, if you would care to see it.”
“No, that isn’t necessary, Father. Did you get a good look at him? Hair or eye color? What was he wearing? Is he white, black, or Hispanic?”
“He was definitely white, that much was certain. As to the rest, there wasn’t adequate light for me to give any description, other than to say he appeared short as his eyes met mine through the screen, so I am assuming he is about my height. Terribly sorry.”
“What size shoe do you wear?”
“Here’s my card, Father. If you think of anything else, please feel free to call me day or night. The sooner we can get this guy, the safer it will be for a lot of people.”
“I do hope what you say is true. I have over a thousand parishioners of the church’s congregation, and this has me truly worried.”
“In what way?”
“The two who were killed last night were part of the congregation.”
“Really, now? I’ll tell you what, Father Ekerson. I will have a dozen men here Sunday for service, in their Sunday go-to-meeting clothes of course. If you think you may be able to recognize the man who was here last night, in your Sunday service, you can let us know.”
“I would think that to be almost an impossibility. What makes you believe he would possibly come back here?”
“I’m of the belief this is where it all started. He comes to church, gets acquainted with a few people, gets to know them, and for some reason, kills them. It’s sort of like a movie; the bad guy always returns to the scene of the crime.”
“I can try, but I cannot promise anything, Lieutenant. After all there is truly little I know about this person.”
“He spoke with you, correct? Perhaps he might share a few words with you after the service and you could recollect his voice.”
She shook hands with Father Ekerson and walked over to the scene where the portable lab unit was in place and the infra-red scanner was already analyzing the blood spectrums in the booth as well as on the floor leading from there to the front doors of the church.
His blood, or his victim’s? Probably the victim’s. As a precaution, she made a note to contact the two hospitals for anyone coming in with any serious injuries, either from a gunshot or knife wound. Doubtful, but she had to cover all the bases.
At least they now knew they were after a Caucasian male, with one hell of a violent temper.
She made another note to have all construction sites checked as well. All size 10 boots with bodies attached were to be brought in and questioned, and have their boots analyzed.