Chief Among Sinners

by Lois K. Gibson

  He watched her take the steps, two at a time, with a gracefulness that made him see how Terry, or any young man, could fall in love with her. "Get a grip," he muttered. "You are here on business."

  Looking at himself in the hall mirror, he saw a youngish, slim man of medium height with slightly thinning hair. He needlessly pulled down his yellow sleeveless cashmere sweater and straightened the cuffs on his blue tattersall cotton shirt. He tried to look straight-laced, but he felt a little giddy.

  "Boy," he admonished himself, "get it together, guy, and think about what you're going to say to Dan."

  Kate came down the stairs, graceful and composed, and said, "I don't know why Dan went back to bed after he got home this morning, but he said to please wait. He's throwing on some jeans and he'll be right down.

  "We don't get to see much of you around here, Rabbi. Is there something special you need from Dan? Can I help? Is there a big fat mystery I'm not supposed to know about? C'mon, Rabbi, you can tell me."

  She steered him toward the kitchen and motioned him to sit at the table, took three cups from the cupboard, and poured two cups of coffee. She sat across from him and slid one cup of coffee toward him, along with a little tray with sugar and a small pitcher of milk.

  Looking him straight in the eye, she said, "Okay, what's going on. I hate secrets, and if I don't get it out of you, I'll wheedle it out of Dan."

  She drank coffee, looked at the rabbi, and asked, "Does this have something to do with the call I got from Terry? He didn't leave a message and he never called back."

  Herb stirred in his usual two teaspoons of sugar and kept on stirring. He finally looked at Kate and said, "I guess you could wheedle a moth out of a wool blanket, Kate, but I'm not sure I can tell you anything yet. I need to talk to Dan about a few things. Of course, we want you involved on our case of murder and mayhem. Father O'Reilly is sure you can help, but I promised him I'd talk to Dan first."

  "I see," Kate simpered. She stood up, almost knocking over her chair. "Well when Terry is ready to let me in on your big secret, you let me know. A rookie lawyer is just as good as a rookie cop." She grabbed her coffee and stalked out of the kitchen, almost colliding with Dan.

  "Wow," said Dan. "What's with her?"

  Herb grinned sheepishly. "It's me," he said. "I really pulled her chain. She asked me what I wanted to see you about and I flipped her off."

  Dan poured his own coffee, sat opposite the rabbi, and said, "Whatever it is, she'll get over it. If I know Kate, she'll come around, especially if there's a legal problem. But tell me, why are you here? Is there a break in the case? What's up?"

  Herb spoke quietly. "There's no breakthrough, unfortunately, and that's why I'm here. I can't stay long. I have a Bar Mitzvah boy that I promised I'd see today at noon."

  He smiled, "When you're opening your presents on Christmas morning, Richard Goldberg will be reciting his Torah portion. But, Dan, about that blow-up this morning, between you and your father. Was that unusual?"

  Dan shrugged. "No. It's what usually happens if we're in the same place at the same time. To him, I'm still the snot-nosed kid in detention in high school two days out of five. He treats me like I'm still that kid and he's the grand guru of police work. Believe me, working in the Twin Cities for four years, I can tell you he hasn't seen the half of it." Dan paused to sip his coffee. "I've changed for everybody but him."

  "You've been home since Halloween," Herb said, "and I don't see a broken nose, no black eye. How have you managed to avoid beating each other up?"

  "It isn't easy," Dan went on. "I mostly try to stay out of his way. I try to make it work because of Mom. I probably wouldn't be home now, except I miss Mom."

  "Well, let me get to the point, Dan. I'm here because Father Terry noticed something at St. Timothy's when he watched the way you examined those boxes. Something in your manner suggested that you might have a clue about what's going on. Please, if you know anything, tell me! This mystery has been driving me and Father Terry crazy. We're afraid something terrible is about to happen, and we don't have an inkling about who or what we are dealing with."

  He took a breath. "That birthing rabbit was only the most recent, and I'm not sure we're done with this. What about next Sunday and the Sunday after that?"

  "Wow! I don't know what Father Terry thinks he saw, Rabbi." Dan sipped his coffee and paused before saying, "I just wanted to make sure I was getting a good look-see at those, what did he call them, wee beasties.

  "You know, Herb," he started slowly and his voice gathered speed as he went on, "I think Kate could help. She just got home last night and I haven't told her anything about this morning. She's no expert, but she has a sharp eye, and she's also a fantastic photographer, and those skills could really help. What do you think?"

  Herb was silent for a moment, then he dialed his cell phone, "Terry, it's me, Herb. Guess who's back in town?"

  Herb smiled when Terry's answer was spot on. "I've got some fence mending to do, I'll explain later, but if I can work my magic, we'll be over in a few minutes."

  He hung up and said to Dan, "You surely know, for Father Terrence O'Reilly Kate is the answer to any and all his prayers. Let's get her down here, and I'll apologize, on my knees if that will help. Should you call her, or should I?"

  Dan yelled, "Kate, get your butt down here, pronto. The man wants to grovel at your feet."

  Kate appeared in the doorway, neatly dressed in tan wool slacks and a plum colored sweater. "Very nice," Herb blurted out, then he went down on one knee. "I am sorry Kate. Forgive me. My head was lost in some murky cloud. I could say your beauty was so overwhelming I went off my rocker for a minute. Yes. Let's say that. But I do apologize, and if you can forgive me, we need your help with this mystery. Terry thinks you are the only person alive, who can save us."

  Kate burst out laughing. "Good lord, Rabbi. You didn't commit a mortal sin, but you did rattle my cage. If you think you can get around me with that pretty speech, you're right. I'm flattered and if I wasn't so eager to get in on this deal, I probably would blush. Now, you two, tell me what's going on."

  Kate poured herself a cup of coffee, pulled up a chair, and with elbows on the table and chin in her hands, she stared at them, waiting.

  Silent for a moment, figuring out where to start, Herb remem­bered in the deep recesses of his mind it was always best to start at the beginning.

  "Well, Kate, it's really Terry's story, but here it is as best I can remember. According to Father Terry, he came back from his regular Sunday night turn around the little cemetery behind St. Timothy's on Halloween."

  He stopped, frowned, and looked at Dan. "That's the day you came home, isn't it, Dan? I remember the chief saying you've been home since Halloween."

  Herb was surprised when Dan stood up and yelled, "What the hell was that look on your face? You can't think I had anything to do with this crap."

  "You're imagining things," Herb replied. "Please, sit down. Where was I? Oh yes, Halloween. Father Terry didn't call me that night about the present left on the back steps. He didn't call me until after the fourth wee beastie, as Mrs. Murphy calls them."

  "What are you talking about?" Kate leaned across the table. "Make sense, Rabbi. What presents? What wee beasties?"

  "Okay," Herb collected himself and went on with the story. "On Halloween, when he got back from the cemetery Father O'Reilly found," he paused, "it wasn't exactly a present on the back steps. It was a dead fish in a clean fish bowl, and it looked fine until he realized that somebody propped open the fish's mouth with a stick, and there was a hat pin poked into its little brain. Terry, thinking it was a prank, flushed the little fish down the toilet and let it go at that."

  Herb paused. Kate was a little wide-eyed but didn't seem too amazed. She got up, went to the cupboard and came back with a package of cookies to munch on. "Well? Get on with it or we'll be here all day."

  Herb picked out his favorite cookie, oatmeal raisin, and dunked it in his coffee and took a bite
. "Every Sunday night after that, except Thanksgiving weekend, when I hid behind the back steps so I might catch the perp, there was another present. There was one other Sunday with no present, but this past Sunday, not only was there a present, but a printed note that read, 'Help me.'"

  Kate held up her hand. "Wait a minute, Rabbi. Are you telling me that every week Terry flushed another poor fish down the toilet? What's so scary about that? And now the little fish wants help?"

  "No, no, no!" Herb exclaimed. "It wasn't a dead fish each time. Every week was a different mutilated animal, and each one bigger than the last. And I don't believe any one of those animals was able to write a note."

  He was surprised at Kate's reaction. Her jaw stiffened, her cheeks flamed, her eyes got big, and she said, "My God. Poor Terry. I can't imagine what he's going through. He is such a sensitive, caring soul. We must help him, and quickly. I know Terry. If we don't get to the bottom of this soon, that beautiful person we all love could become totally undone."

  Herb stood, drained the last of his coffee, and moved toward the front door.

  "Wait," Kate yelled. "I'll go with you. I need to see him."

  She followed the rabbi to the front hall. He stopped her. "I'm not going to the church, Kate. I told Dan that I have to go see this boy by noon, and it's almost that time. If I thought leaving the Bar Mitzvah kid in the lurch would help, I would, but nothing I've done so far has helped, so I must keep this appointment."

  Kate said, "You can't just leave. What happens next? What are you going to do about Father Terry? Somebody's got to do something."

  He answered, "I'm sorry Kate, but you don't need me. Get your camera, and you two hustle over to St. Timothy's. The weather has eased a little. There's even a hint of sun. See if you can find something we missed. I've got to go. I'll check with you later."

  He stopped and looked at Dan. "I don't know if this is out of line, Dan, but it might be wise not to tell the chief about this. I know he said he washed his hands of the whole thing, but it's his town, and I don't think there's enough soap and water in the world for him to wash his hands of this and let it go at that."

  Dan took his cell phone to call the church, Kate grabbed her coat. The three of them were out the door; Kate and Dan to St. Timothy's, Herb off to see Richard Goldberg. His Bar Mitzvah was only three weeks away.

  Six

  Father Terry opened his door to see it was Dan Addams knocking on it. He said hello and would have asked what Dan was doing there, but then he noticed Kate crouched down by the back steps examining the dirt and scattered leaves with a magnifying glass and camera. "Kate," Terry said breathlessly. He tried not to look too eager in front of Dan, but he still ran down the steps, pulled Kate to her feet, grabbed her in a bear hug, and said with excitement, "Am I glad to see you."

  Kate smiled as she struggled loose from Terry's grip. "Well, you certainly know how to welcome an old friend."

  She leaned forward as though she would kiss him, and Terry wanted her to, but then she pulled back. Instead, she gave him a quick buss on each cheek. She looked him over and then frowned. "Terry O'Reilly, get up those stairs and get your coat. I won't be responsible for you catching your death."

  Without question, he ran up the steps, reached through the open door, took his coat, and struggled to put it on while rushing down to greet her again.

  "I see you two still have something going," Dan said behind them, forgotten by Father Terry. Kate made a face at her brother, but he ignored it and continued, "but that's not why we're here. If you can keep your hands off each other, we have a mystery to solve and we don't have all day. Let's get at it."

  Kate pushed the magnifying glass at Dan. Terry felt himself blush when he heard her tell Dan that he should get to work because she needed to talk to Father O'Reilly. She took hold of both his hands, looked in his face and said, "You must be so upset. I'm here for you, Terry."

  Again he felt his cheeks flame and pulled his hands away, then she explained that herb had filled them in on some of the details, but she had lots of questions.

  Terry said, "Of course. If there were no questions, we'd be inside, warm and cozy, catching up on your comings and goings instead of scrounging in the dirt."

  Kate said, "It's good to see you, Terry. But I can see the strain in your face. What you're going through must be pure hell. Oops. Well, you know what I mean. Anyhow, Dan and I are here to help any way we can."

  Terry told her that she looked well, healthy and prettier than ever, adding that law school must agree with her.

  Kate smiled, then, to his relief, turned all business, "Right now," she said, "I need to see your wee beasties. That's what the rabbi said you called them. I need to see everything, boxes, trimmings, wrappings, however these things were delivered to the back steps."

  Terry undid the lock on the shed door and brought out the large box that he refused to let the chief take away. Stepping back with a sweeping gesture, he indicated that the box was what Kate asked for.

  Kate gasped and slowly let out her breath. "You didn't keep them the way you found them?"

  "No," Terry answered. "Frankly they've been handled so much by me, Rabbi Gordon, Reverend Shultz, Chief, Dan, I didn't think it mattered anymore."

  Kate leaned into the box. "Well, I guess all that messing around is yesterday's news. So show me, Terry, exactly what came first, then next and next, so I get a sense of the progression."

  He withdrew the box with the birthing rabbit, the ribbon still around its neck and the message, "HELP ME!' attached and set that farthest right, then the rat, bat, chipmunk, and lastly he plunked the fish bowl down in front of her.

  "That's how they showed up," he said. "It's cold in the shed and they're pretty much as they were, except for the goldfish, which I flushed down the toilet. I thought that was an isolated incident. If I had known it was just the appetizer, I would have kept it."

  He shuddered a little when Kate took his hand again. "Of course we understand. You couldn't know that the fish bowl wasn't a single kill. And even after the second box, with the dead chipmunk, you couldn't realize it was a trend."

  Dan said, "I guess, Father Terry, you're hoping the rabbit with the note is the end of it. Any idea what it means? Have you analyzed the paper? Is there anything distinct about the boxes that caught your attention? Tell us your thoughts, suspicions, questions you have asked, and even those that you kept inside your head."

  Terry saw Kate look at her brother. She seemed startled by the directness with which he threw out so many questions. "Well," she said, "I guess you're not the lame-brain Dad insists you are."

  Terry sat on the top step, well away from the wee beasties. Kate stood at the bottom of the steps, listening to his story. "When it started, I was sure it was a prank because this began on a Sunday night, which happened to be Halloween. Now, let me think. I remember I kept the chipmunk because when that dead beastie showed up I thought, maybe the goldfish wasn't a prank. Of course when the bat came the following week, I kept that, too. Then that big rat showed up a week later, and I got worried. I was glad I decided to keep them all until I could get a handle on things. That's when I called Rabbi Gordon. That sleek, fat, wet rat was really scary, and it was the fourth week in a row, and now this poor mutilated rabbit with its awful message."

  Kate asked, "Did any of the earlier ones have a message? Are you sure you looked carefully? And you're sure nothing fell off when you picked them up... I'm sorry, Terry. You are living with this horror. I'm sure you were very careful and did everything humanly possible."

  Terry was glad Dan interrupted. The priest was beginning to feel defensive. "Hold it a minute, sis. There's still plenty of light. Let's look at what's here. Take some pictures and let Father Terry get inside out of the cold. We don't want him to get sick. Mystery or not, he still has to run the parish, and I'm sure you can bear to have him out of your sight for a few minutes."

  Kate nodded. "Get inside, Terry. Dan and I will be busy out here doing our thing, then
we'll come in and talk. Even though everything's been trampled and pawed over, we still want to study the ground, the steps, every box, its contents, then we'll put it away."

  Terry stood up and flung his arms around to create some warmth in his body. "Okay. You're all so worried about my health, I will go inside. Lock up when you're done. I'll ask Mrs. Murphy to heat up some soup, and I'll and try to come up with some new ideas." He ran up the steps and into the kitchen.

  As he shed his coat, he muttered, "I thought I was over Kate, but my heart is thumping like a bass drum." He remembered their hug and the near kiss. "She is prettier than ever," he mused, "but I know I did the right thing. No regrets. I hope she still loves me—what did she say—like a brother? That'll have to do."

  He turned to Mrs. Murphy and saw she was scowling at him. "So you finally decided to come in. I hope you didn't catch yer death, staying out in the cold with that woman. And what are you mumbling about? Never mind. Have some soup to warm you up and keep the pneumonia out of yer lungs."

  The priest sat down at the table. "Why is everybody worried about my catching cold or pneumonia? I'm healthy as a horse, and you know it."

  Wrapping his hands around the hot mug to gather the warmth into his cold hands, he sipped the thick, hearty soup, looked at Mrs. Murphy, and said, "I know it's soup, but I swear, Mrs. Murphy, sometimes I think it's Irish magic you're always stirring with your big wooden spoon in that big black pot. Was it the bat, flew up out of that pot to haunt me?"

  He watched Mrs. Murphy go on stirring and felt better when she said, "Forget about the bat. Drink the soup, my lad, and relax. Lots of people are helping. We're not alone with this problem anymore."

  She walked over to the table, wooden spoon still in hand. "It isn't magic, Father. It's simple home cooking. I bet your own ma'am made you this kind of soup when you were a wee lad."

  "Well, whatever my mother did or did not cook, you have a special knack and everybody knows I'm lucky that you choose to lavish your talents on this poor priest."