Chief Among Sinners

by Lois K. Gibson

  Herb leaned over and whispered to Louise, "Let's go into the other room. We need to talk."

  They walked away from the others, and standing together in the living room, Louise had such a troubled expression on her face that Herb wanted to wipe it away. He took her face in his hands and gently kissed her on the lips. He assured her there was no crisis, but he had to tell her what Dan said to him.

  She nestled against him, stifling tears. "I did a terrible thing to my children, Herb. It's all because of that monster, Scott. I knew he was a Jew hater when I married him. He got it from his step-father."

  She leaned back and looked in Herb's face. "I know his step­father abused him when he was a little boy. Maybe that's why Scott did what he did to those little girls. They say abused children are likely to become abusers. I forgot about that. And, I guess children of haters become haters. Does that make any sense?"

  She stepped away from Herb, her eyes big when she asked, "What about Kate?" She insisted that she had to talk to Kate and Dan but, not with him around.

  He shook his head. "Louise, we have to get through this together. Dan has to understand that you, not him, are the head of the Addams family. Hopefully he will come to accept that we love each other, and Dan will not dictate our future."

  Dan entered the doorway to intrude on their quiet moment. "Get out of here, Mother. I've already told the rabbi who I am and what's not going to happen. You know I love you, and there's no way I can let you think you're a Jew just to marry this sleaze ball." Dan walked over to Louise and reached for her arm.

  Herb intercepted the gesture. "Don't you dare grab your mother, and don't start to act like your father. She put up with his brutal behavior for years, and she doesn't have to put up with any of that from you. You speak and act respectfully to her, or you'll have to reckon with me."

  Herb saw that even though Dan smiled, there was no humor in his face. His lips stretched across his teeth in an evil grimace. "Reckon with you, you slimy bastard. Did you forget I'm a cop? You better watch it. I've got more power than you realize."

  Louise grabbed Dan's arm. "What in God's name are you doing, Dan? I know you're upset. First the chief is dead and now I told you about me and Herb. Please, sit down here with me. I want to listen to everything you have to say, but promise not to bully me like your father. I've had enough of that to last two lifetimes."

  "You can both go to hell!" Dan turned and slammed the front door on his way out of the house. Herb and Louise heard a car start and tires screech down the street.

  Kate and Frank, each with a sandwich in hand, rushed to the living room. Kate said, "What was that?" She looked around and asked, "Where is Dan going, in such a hurry, Mom?"

  They all walked back into the kitchen, where Mrs. Murphy was clearing away dirty dishes.

  Louis said, "Bridget, please don't do that. Go to St. Timothy's and give Father Terry a hand. He needs you more than we do. Besides, you already know all the Addams family secrets."

  Mrs. Murphy wiped her hands, thanked Louise and Kate for lunch, got her coat, and told them she would see them later at the church, reminding them that the sheriff said one o'clock.

  Herb fixed a plate for Louise, sat down next to her, and while she nibbled a sandwich she said to Kate, "I'm really upset at the changes in Dan since the chief died. It's as if he wants to take his place, including his worst side. I haven't heard a pleasant word from him since the body was discovered."

  Kate said, "I've noticed the change. Last week Dan was my nice, easy-going brother. Now I don't know who he is, and I'm not sure he does, either."

  Herb said, "I'm familiar with this kind of conduct after a death in the family. Dan is so upset, he doesn't know how to act. It can often be after-guilt. When a parent dies, you think things might have been different if you did something. I think it will take awhile for Dan to realize nothing he did would have changed the chief, for better or worse."

  Frank, Kate, Herb, and Louise sat around the kitchen table, quietly eating lunch until Louise broke the silence. "Okay, Kate. Do you feel the same as Dan? Do you hate Jews, hate me, because I never told you? How do you feel me and Rabbi Gordon?"

  Kate slowly chewed her food, sipped her soda, and nibbled a few chips before answering.

  "It really was a shock. To tell the truth, I haven't digested it, yet. I need to think about it some more. I mean, your being a Jew. As for the other, I like Rabbi Herb. He's one of the nicest men I know aside from Frank here, and Terry of course. It sure would be a nice change, after the bluster and bully that went on in this house."

  Frank said, "I think we have to finish with this murder, or suicide or whatever you call it, before anybody does anything that might call any more attention to this family."

  Herb said, "I agree, Frank. There's been enough speculation to last this town a hundred years. Let's settle on a story for the press and the public and put the chief in his grave, where he belongs. Then Oakton and the rest of us can get on with our lives."

  He was happy to hear Louise say that she didn't want to dwell on the past, and God knew, Scott was her past. Now she had something joyous to look forward to. She stood away from the table, spun around, and said,
  Then, to everyone's surprise, she took out her cell phone, punched in the numbers, and they heard her say, "Hello, Mr. Nelson. This is Louise Addams, Chief Scott Addams's wife. I'm planning a funeral—a cremation, to be precise—and soon."

  Twenty-Two

  Father Terry told Mrs. Murphy to get on with whatever chores she needed to do before everybody gathered at St. Timothy's. He was going out to see if the sheriff found anything new with the chief's car. As soon as he was out the door, Mrs. Murphy went to the window, to satisfy herself that the sheriff and the priest were busy at the crime scene. She turned away from the window and quickly opened the sheriff's large briefcase, which he left propped against the leg of the kitchen table.

  There were fewer files than she expected. She pulled all of them out of the unlocked case and quickly riffled through them. She recognized many of the names of people the chief had been blackmailing and realized these were Addams's personal files, not crime files. She found what she was looking for and extracted the one file with MURPHY, scrawled across the top in big black letters, then she carefully wiped her fingerprints off the briefcase and snapped it shut.

  Sitting at the kitchen table, she withdrew all the papers from the manila folder and tsked tsked as she went through page after page.

  "Son of a bitch," she exclaimed, quickly looked around, and realized no one else was there. She was dismayed to discover that the chief had lots more on her than he ever let on. She realized his threats to expose her were serious. Mumbling to herself, she admitted that he had to do a lot of research to track down all the details in his file. He must have had contacts in Boston, maybe even back in Ireland. "God damn. I never knew," she said.

  Her file enthralled Mrs. Murphy, so much so that she didn't notice Father Terry coming back into the kitchen until he stamped his feet to get rid of the snow on his shoes. He raised his voice and said, "Mrs. Murphy, what are you doing? Those are confidential files! If the sheriff found you going through those things, he could have you arrested. Let me put them back, and I won't say a thing." He strode across the kitchen and tried to wrest the files from her hands, but Mrs. Murphy wouldn't let go.

  "Father, Father, you don't understand." Mrs. Murphy was on the edge of tears. She clutched the files to her bosom and looked up into his face. "These aren't police files. These are the chief's personal files, the ones he was using against me. This is how he swore me to secrecy about his abusing the Clark girls, and here's proof of his other blackmail schemes all over town."

  Mrs. Murphy was disappointed to hear the priest's skepticism, even disbelief at what she assumed he already knew about the chief and his iron grip on the whole town. He said, "Come now, Mrs. Murphy. We've known each other a long time. I can't believe
there is anything in those files that would buy your silence about such serious crimes. Blackmail you?"

  He looked down at her, and as he reached to take the papers from her, he said, "You are the most honest, straightforward person in this whole town. Now, let me see what you've got there, and we'll settle this nasty business."

  Mrs. Murphy didn't release the files. Her knuckles were white, as she clutched them to her chest. "No, no, no, Father..."

  "Come now, Mrs. Murphy. I am your priest, your confessor. You dare not withhold from me. If you do, I'm afraid I will have to let you go. You will no longer be able to serve me and St. Timothy's."

  Mrs. Murphy started to wail like an Irish banshee. She stopped the moment Father Terry tried to calm her. He spoke about how he never thought she would keep secrets from him, especially secrets that could be held against her with threats of bodily harm.

  "Bodily harm, bodily harm!" she shouted at him. "That bastard threatened to kill me, kill you, and burn down the church! Do you really think so little of me that I would be afraid of that man if he threatened to beat me up? Not on your life, Father."

  "Why didn't you come to me, Bridget?" His face was somber, less angry, trying to assure her that he would have protected her.

  "I don't mean to be disrespectful, Father, but it was I protecting you, not the other way around. So what happens now?"

  The priest said, "I'm sure you know, Bridget, that when you share that file with me, it will be as if it were shared in the confessional. You believe that, don't you?"

  She slowly relaxed her grip on the manila folder and looked up at him as tears ran down her face. "I guess I have to trust you, Father." Still holding on to the folder, she said, "I think you will be very surprised at what's in here, and I am really upset that the sheriff probably already read this file. I was sure that the chief was the only one who would ever know."

  She laid the file in her lap, one hand lying on top of it, the other wiping her eyes. "Father, could you ask the sheriff when he comes in if he already read every file in his case? If he asks why you need to know, you could say you were wondering if there was anything you should know so you could help the Addams family or anyone else in your parish. Please, do that for me. It's very important."

  The priest looked down at his housekeeper. For a moment, Mrs. Murphy thought the priest would say no, but he gave her a concerned look and said, "I'll do better than that. I'll go out there, take him a mug of coffee, and ask him right now. How's that."

  "Bless you, Father." Mrs. Murphy tucked the file under one arm, hurried to the stove, poured a mug of coffee for the sheriff, and waited while the priest put on his coat then held the door open. She rushed to the rear window to watch the interaction between the two men.

  It was a brief meeting. She saw Father O'Reilly hand the coffee to the sheriff; he nodded, said thank you, then she thought she saw Ken shake his head 'no.' She took the kettle, poured herself a cuppa, then sat at the table while the priest stomped the snow from his shoes, once again, and hung up his coat.

  She smiled at Father O'Reilly when he told her that Sheriff Davis got those files from the chief's office but never had time to even give them a glance. She pushed the file across the table to him. "I didn't like keeping secrets, Father, but maybe you'll understand when you see what's in there."

  She watched him open the file then hold up the first sheet and read out loud, 'Colleen Ryan: A known member of Sinn Fein during the "troubles" between the Protestant North and the Catholic South. Not guilty of murder, but drove car for others. 1972, entered United States illegally, forged papers, changed name, settled in Boston. 1975, moved to California using the name Bridget Sheehan, lived with a cousin, Mary Jane Higgins, not Sinn Fein. 1985, came to Minnesota as Bridget Murphy, became housekeeper for Father John Higgins (cousin of Mary Jane Higgins) at St. Timothy's Catholic Church. Forged papers include a birth certificate, social security number, voter registration, and unearned high school diploma. Considered an illegal alien."

  "Wait wait, Father. That's wrong. I did graduate from high school, in California. I looked young and nobody knew I was six or seven years older than the rest of the class. I was using a different name, but I have my diploma, and proud of it."

  She recognized the sarcasm in his tone when the priest asked, "What name were you using then, if I may ask, Bridget Murphy?"

  "I was Peggy Regan in high school. I was a cheer leader and editor of the school newspaper. I graduated with honors. I'm not a dummy, you know."

  He took a cup of coffee and sat down at the table. "What do I do with you, Mrs. Murphy? What else aren't you telling me?"

  Mrs. Murphy stood up. "Don't ask me now, please, Father. I hear the sheriff coming up the steps. I'll take this file with me. Please, please, remember. Confessional." She hurried out of the kitchen as the door opened and the sheriff came in.

  Terry watched Sheriff Davis stomp his feet to get the circulation going. "Son of a bitch, it's cold out there. Thanks for the coffee, Father O'Reilly. It helped."

  Terry asked, "Did you find anything, sheriff? Was your inspection worth freezing your butt?"

  "No way in hell. The boys didn't find anything new, and neither did I. I'm not sure there's anything to find. I admit I don't know what the chief was going to do with the rags and the gasoline. I remember Mrs. Murphy said she was afraid he was going to burn down the church, but that seems unlikely. What do you think, Father O'Reilly?"

  "If I had to guess, I'd say he was going to burn down the Clark place. He owned it, so it was his to burn. He didn't come to church, so I never really knew the man and couldn't know what was in his mind. I doubt anyone else did, either. But hey, sheriff, have you got a suspect?"

  The sheriff answered, "I really can't point a finger at one person. Every good suspect has an alibi. Louise Addams and Frank Stevenson don't have alibis, and I include Mrs. Murphy. She says she was here in the church, but nobody can vouch for that."

  Terry gulped. Until a few minutes ago, he would have sworn on a bible that Mrs. Murphy could be trusted to tell the truth. Now, he wasn't sure. He wasn't about to share his doubts with the sheriff. He said, "Well, I've always trusted Mrs. Murphy. You probably should, too."

  "That's hardly a ringing endorsement, Father O'Reilly, but I'll accept that, for now." The sheriff went on, "To be honest, the idea of suicide is more and more appealing." He saw the Priest nod, and asked what he thought about that.

  Terry tried not to show how eager he was to endorse suicide. "Being a lawman, I realize that is a very hard thing for you to support suicide, but then, Sheriff Davis, if you insist this was murder and continue to look for the killer, it creates its own problems.

  "Remember that Scott Addams was the chief of police of Oakton, one of the larger towns in the county. What would people think if they knew the kind of monster he really was? It would reflect on the police here, but wouldn't it also cast a shadow over other police officers, and who knows how far that distrust would go. People might stop calling, even in an emergency, unsure of what kind of police officer was coming to their house."

  Barely stopping for breath, the priest kept talking, "Listen to me, sheriff. I know I'm going on and on about this, but I want you to be clear about your decision, and the ramifications of what you decide. Suicide solves a lot of problems for everyone involved. It eases the fears that someone would be able to shoot the chief in his own car, keeps Oakton out of the national press, and then the scandal of the chief's pedophilia and blackmail never has to come out."

  Terry stopped to consider something. "You know, sheriff, I just thought about the blackmail. I bet in your files you have the names of the people the chief blackmailed. Would they each become a suspect? Would you have to start all over again?"

  The sheriff thought for a minute. "That's a hell of a good argument for suicide, Father O'Reilly. It's a very hard decision, goes against all my training, everything I've thought or done in the interests of public safety. But, in this case, I can't see myself tur
ning over every stone, accusing people I know of murder, and most persuasive, revealing that Scott Addams was a vile pervert. Thank you. I think you've helped me decide. In fact, the blackmail victims are another reason for the chief to commit suicide. We don't have to mention names. They know who they are."

  Terry said, "It's almost that time for the others to arrive. Will you tell them your decision right off, or play your wicked games, still looking for your suspect? Be honest, sheriff. Do you think whoever did it will actually confess?"

  Ken Davis smiled. "In a situation like this, I'm always surprised at the pressure a group brings to bear on the guilty party. Often that's enough to get a confession, but I'm not so sure this time. There's too much sympathy for whoever did it. If somebody does confess, they'll probably pin a medal on him...or her."

  The door opened and Louise, Herb, Kate, and Frank came in. Terry asked, "Where's Dan?"

  Herb shrugged, shook his head, and Terry got it. Don't ask. Terry asked if the coroner, Chuck, and Bill would be coming to this meeting.

  The sheriff said he sent them all home because it was close to New Years and they should be home with their families, adding, "Hell, we should all be home."

  Terry asked if he was going to wait for Dan, and when the sheriff said no Terry suggested everybody take a seat and said as soon as Mrs. Murphy came in, they could start.

  Mrs. Murphy came into the kitchen smiling, and nodding at each of them, she went straight to Louise Addams and whispered something to her. Terry saw Louise pat Mrs. Murphy on the back, and nod at him. He thought, 'So Louise knew all about it. I wonder if she's the one who told the chief Mrs. Murphy's secrets years ago, before she found out what a monster he was.'

  Putting speculation aside, Terry listened as Sheriff Davis cleared his throat to speak. "Well, here we are again. I don't expect the Clark girls to show up, and I've decided that although they clearly had motive, given their circumstances, I don't think they killed the chief. So..." He paused. "I'm left with the people in this room."